Moving Company
by Lady Lance
Summary: When Harry becomes a Slytherin, everything changes
1. Moving People

Title: Moving Company  
Author: Lady Lance  
Pairing: Harry/Blaise, Harry Draco (eventually)  
Raiting: PG for some mild violence, kissing  
Summary: When Harry becomes a Slytherin, everything changes  
Disclaimers: J.K Rowling owns the characters and the world, I don't have permission to do this and I'm not making any money off this to boot.  
Feedback: Yes please, nothing makes a day brighter then feedback.  
Author Note: Thanks to Nyn for betaing and for Sarah for her support.

1. Moving People 

It was the evening of September first at Hogwarts, the traditional night of the Sorting. What made this night different, however, was the group of approximately two dozen returning students milling behind the first years, waiting to get Sorted into a new House

The letters they had received had been vague at best. Aside from the traditional list of supplies and a mention that now only fourth years and older were permitted to go to Hogsmeade due to the threat from You-Know-Who, there had been a scant paragraph mentioning that, although highly unorthodox, several students would benefit from a new environment and by embracing the qualities of another House. On the whole it wasn't reassuring or all that clear and had lead to a great deal of protesting by those who were no longer right for their previous House. One of the most vocal complainers had been, to no ones surprise, Ron.

Only a few minutes into the trip to Hogwarts, Harry decided that getting Howlers were infinitely more enjoyable then listening to Ron's protests. First he complained about how no one respected the Hufflepuffs, and how it would be impossible for him to become Head Boy: there hadn't been one from Hufflepuff for the last twenty years. Then he complained that he was too stupid for Ravenclaw, and how all Slytherins were great gits with a drafty dungeon to sleep and how he'd likely end up murdered in his sleep if he was forced to join them. He also insisted that Gryffindor was in his blood: every single Weasley for the past three generations had all been in Gryffindor and to be in any other house violated all tradition and was just inherently wrong, and that Dumbledore must have made an error: neither Fred, George or Ginny had to be re-Sorted so why him? After an hour and half of the non-stop whining, Hermione had finally hit him with a silencing spell, so that she and Harry wouldn't go to the banquet with a throbbing headache. 

Hermione herself wasn't any more pleased to be resorted, if for no other reason then she saw no reason for it: the Hat wasn't supposed to make mistakes, and being in Gryffindor had taught her to loosen up, and it certainly didn't diminish her school work: she was easily the smartest girl in her year. Although she didn't understand the reasons behind the move, she didn't want to dwell on it either. Instead she focused on the fact that she'd be one of the few involved in something that had never happened at Hogwarts before and had already made plans to check on the self-updating _Hogwarts: A History_ after dinner to see if her name was mentioned. 

Harry looked decidedly indifferent about the whole affair. He refused to talk about it with anyone, simply saying that Dumbledore must have his reasons, and that no, he didn't have a first choice for a House to be in if he couldn't be a Gryffindor. Instead for a few minutes he watched the frightened first years huddle in small groups, looking nervously between the head table, the lone stool and the loud clatter of the returning students speculating on just why they were losing Housemates that night. He also kept an eye on the twenty or so students that were changing houses: at least a dozen of them were fourth years and above. Many looked indignant or angry (particularly one cross Goyle), some like Ron were confused and hurt, the rest trying to looking like they didn't care about where they ended up, he even had time to swap a few vicious glares with Malfoy, who was smiling, quite smug about the fact that he wasn't going anywhere. 

An antagonizing slow ten minutes later, the Hat started to warble a few notes, and the chatter died down. Deciding to go with a flare for the dramatic as befitting such an auspicious occasion, the candles dimmed themselves and a spotlight focused on the hat.

_In the times of yore  
There were wizards four  
Who did decree that I decide where you shall be._

_But times are rough with Wizards Dark  
Some think my judgment might have been off the mark  
And so there are those who are where they shouldn't be._

_Where to place you is the task at hand,  
Which one of the Founding Wizards shall guide your way?  
Here are my choices for where you'll stay._

_Option one of four is the house of Gryffindor  
The brave and courageous Godric did adore._

_Are you loyal? Are you true?  
Then mayhap Hufflepuff is the house for you._

_A house known for being a sly as its mascot the snake,   
For those who have or seek power, Slytherin will serve you great._

_Finally, for those quick of mind and ready wit,  
Ravenclaw is where you'll best fit._

_So without further delay,  
Slip me on your head and I'll send you on the way!_

The student's applauded politely while comments on the decided lack of quality about the song this year circulated. Those close to the chair could hear it muttering about lack of proper preparation time.

Professor McGonagall paid the commotion no heed, and with a steady voice called out,  
"Batchelor, Angela!" beginning the sorting of the first years. Disinterestedly, those waiting to be resorted watched as she became a Hufflepuff, although there was some cheering as "Fillmore, David" became a Gryffindor, before Ron remembered that he was no longer one, which prompted him to sulk. Just as abruptly he stopped when Harry remarked that it made Ron seem like Malfoy.

Finally, "Wasserman, Silvia" became a Ravenclaw, marking the end of the new first years. As McGonagall switched scrolls, Dumbledore stood up.

"I know that never in the history of the school have people been re-Sorted, but times are rough and it is my duty to see all of you be placed where you can most excel. While I understand that many of you are angry at this uprooting, please have faith that this is for the best." He nodded and the Re-Sorting began.

The minutes passed slowly as they helplessly watched Cho get resorted into Gryffindor, and Goyle into Hufflepuff, which amused everyone, or at least everyone that wasn't in Slytherin.

"Granger, Hermione!" She swallowed and walked forward, sitting on the stool as the now not-quite so oversized hat was placed upon on her head.

_"Hello againlet's see. I still see that Gryffindor do or die attitude, and you've relaxed a bit about the rule bendingbut there is also no denying your intelligence. You've done what was needed to get Potter to where he is; now it's time to focus on you. Therefore, it's RAVENCLAW!"_

No one looked the least bit surprised by the announcement, although several Gryffindors mourned the loss of the points she normally brought by her knowledge.

"Potter, Harry!"

Everyone turned and watched as he took his place on the stool.

_"Gryffindor has served you well, Mr. Potter, but it is time to embrace that which you would try to deny. Plus, having some of these people as your friends could save your life one day."_

Harry closed his eyes, sighing as the hat screamed out, "SLYTHERIN!"

A few glasses could be heard crashing to the floor, but otherwise for almost a minute silence filled the great hall until Harry's ex-House started to protest the Hat's decision, while others like Draco and Snape stared at Harry with cool expressions, finding it disconcerting to see an equally cool looking Harry appearing to not be surprised by this verdict. Ron's jaw had dropped to the floor, and no amount of effort made it possible for him to shut it again. Gone were coherent words of protest, in there place were outraged noises and vague and slightly obscene hand gestures. Hermione shook her head in disbelief, sending Harry sympathetic looks and smiles that were supposed to reassure him that everything was going to be all right. Professor McGonagall looked decidedly worse than the rest; she'd had dropped the scroll in the surprise. Picking it back up, she saw that Dumbledore apparently seemed quite pleased with the verdict.

Desperately trying to keep his cool demeanor and neutral expression as he headed to the Slytherin table, Harry had to take several deep breaths and remind himself that this was being done for a reason and that it would work out for the best and that he was decidedly not evil, even with his abilities to speak Parseltongue and his connection to Voldemort.  
When he finally got there, he sat to Draco's left, the only empty seat. Several of his new Housemates looked at him uneasily, not sure of what to make of this development, while the Sorting continued. Harry looked up only when he heard,

"Weasley, Ronald!"

The last of the famed trio sat upon the stool.

_"You have shown the kind of braveness that Godric himself would have been impressed with, and your skills at Wizard Chess show your intelligence. However, above all else, you have shown Mr. Potter such loyalty that you truly belong in HUFFLEPUFF!"_

Ron moaned and slid off the chair, casting Harry a desperate glance as he took a place at his new table.

Dumbledore stood again, and while looking at the Slytherins through the corner of his eye, he spoke: "It will take time to adjust to the changes in your House, but I have faith that you will treat all new members with the same respect you gave the old.

Now, we eat!"

* * *  
When Harry stayed silent through the rest of the meal, Draco was fine.

When Harry stayed silent on the walk back to the Slytherin tower, Draco got irritated. 

When Harry remained silent in the common room while they waited for Snape to give a beginning-of-term speech, Draco lost it.

"Come on, Potter, you can't stay silent forever."

"If you called me by my first name I might actually talk."

Draco startled. "You mean the reason you weren't talking to me is because I called you Potter?"

Harry nodded. "I'm in your House now, whether or not we like it. The least you can do is call me Harry."

"You can't expect me to call you Harry just because you want me to."

"But you will." Harry smiled. "Because you love goading me, and it'll drive you nuts if I don't respond. It's what set you off a few seconds ago, was it not?"

Draco scowled. "Stupid git."

Harry didn't respond, but Snape, whom had entered seconds ago did. "Mr. Malfoy! Like it or not, Mr. Potter is one of us now, and you'll treat him with the respect due him." 

Malfoy made a face, Snape pretended to ignore it.

"So the term starts with a surprise, let us pray that it is the least pleasant one we may face in the year to come. As days become darker with an increase in activity from the Death Eaters, it is more important then ever that we remain close. The path we walk is a dangerous one, with an uncertain future. Now is not a time to become divided because you have issues with one another."

Harry muttered something under his breath; Snape scowled at him, but pressed on. "I feel though, that this year we may yet reclaim the House cup, the Quidditch cup as well. Try-outs will be held this weekend, I trust that all who have the skill will try out, including you, Mr. Potter."

"But I'm the Seeker!" Draco protested.

"For right now, you are. Don't worry. To make things fair, everyone will be required to try out again, including those that remain from last year's team."

Harry's mind boggled at the thought of Snape being fair, oblivious to the glares Draco was sending his way. Most of the remaining Slytherin team was unconcerned, knowing they had no direct competition to knock them out of their position.

"To our first years, I trust you will behave in a manner that does the House proud. I will not take the loss of points lightly!" 

Harry's eyes lit up at that, and smiled, slightly pleased about something.

Snape looked confused, but pressed on.

"I do trust that if you do things that blatantly break the rules that you will use your best discretion in not getting caught. I rather despise listening to McGonagall harp on me for your misbehaviors, and I promise that I've got an endless list of things you can do for me in detention if I have to suffer."

"Now, because of the extra Sorting tonight it is quite late, and I bid you all a goodnight." With a nod, Snape left, and Draco stood up. "First years, follow me. Blaise, show PotHarry where our dorm is at."

Blaise nodded and motioned for Harry to follow him. "Since there are fewer of us, we have more room." He lead Harry up a winding stair case to a room roughly the same size as his old dorm, noting that there was an extra side table by each bed. Blaise pointed out the bed across from the doorway. "That one is yours."

Harry nodded, thanking him, although it was rather obvious with the new scarves and ties that were lying on the pillow. The two boys started sorting through their things, putting their belongings away. Every now and then he stopped to take a good look at Blaise. He was tall for his age, and very slight. His brown, slightly wild curly hair stopped just beneath his shoulders, although during the day he seemed to wear it clipped back, perhaps to keep it out of the way when doing things like potions work. His face was narrow, and his eyelashes were unusually long and curled for a male. No wonder there was the ever long-standing bet in Gryffindor about his true gender.

"If you don't mind me asking, Harry?"

"Yes, Blaise?"

"You didn't seem too surprised tonight, at the Sorting. I thought you despised us."

"Well, not all of you. You've never given me reason to dislike you."

"But you don't like Slytherins."

"I admit you aren't my favorite group of people in the world. If you were me, you wouldn't be too fond of this House either."

A few more minutes passed in silence.

"You didn't answer my first question."

"You mean why I wasn't surprised?"

Blaise nodded.

"It's simple. The first time I was Sorted, the Hat wanted to place me here. I told it no, and it placed me in Gryffindor. This time around, it said I had no choice, so here I am. Thank you."

"For what?"

"Not looking like you wanted to kill me when I joined the table tonight."

Blaise turned around from where he was shelving texts. "Our Housemates can be fools. You aren't going anywhere, no matter how much they scowl. You may not be pureblood, but you are, or at least will be an undeniably powerful wizard. You will be a valuable addition to Slytherin. The others will see that in time. If you have any problems with them, you can deal with them as you see fit. Professor Snape will not interfere unless he absolutely has to." He smiled. "In fact, I would encourage you to deal with it. A few well-placed hexes will earn you respect, as well as letting them see your strength."

Harry nodded. "I'll keep it in mind."

Draco strode into the room just then, followed by Crabbe. "Keep what in mind?"

"Just some useful advice. Goodnight Blaise, Draco, Crabbe." He'd tried to address him as Vincent during dinner, but had been told that he preferred Crabbe. Harry shrugged, and complied.

Harry closed the curtain and soon was fast asleep.  



	2. Earning Respect with a Little Hex

See all disclaimers/contact info in part one  
  
2. Earning Respect With a Little Hex  
  
The next morning was cold and foggy, which Harry found oddly appropriate considering that circumstances of the night before. He sat by the fire, waiting for the other boys to come down and to get his schedule before going to breakfast. 

"Well well, it's the Boy Who Lived."

Harry looked up and saw Montague looking down on him. "Congratulations, you found me."

"Aww, Derrick, isn't he cute?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Is wittle Harry all alone now that he doesn't have his friends anymore?"

"I bet he can't do shit now that he doesn't have that Mudblood following him around."

"Leave Hermione out of this." Harry's eyes grew cold, and his hand was fingering his wand.

"He's got a crush on the filthy Mudblood! How fitting, trash the both of your are!" Derrick wrinkled his nose.

"_Non parli malvagita!_"

A purple flash hit the two boys standing over him as Blaise entered the room. Blaise seemed curious, and perhaps a little dismayed that the two seventh years weren't writhing in pain.

"What did you do to me?" Montague demanded.

"To you, you mean to me!" Derrick scowled.

"You'll find out soon enough." Harry looked all too cheery.

"YOU" Montague tried to launch into a tirade, but instead an aria from the muggle Bizet's _Carmen_ filled the common room, much to the surprise of the others milling about, and the great amusement of Harry Potter.

Derrick's attempted ranting was suddenly replaced by a solo from _The Magic Flute_ by Mozart. 

Harry snickered.

Blaise tried not to laugh. Several first and second years gave in and started laughing at the two older boys, the laughter growing more and more as the frustrated seventh years tried to stop singing, but were unable.

The portrait suddenly blasted opening, revealing a harried Snape holding a stack of papers, trying to figure out why his common room was in hysterics.

"WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?"

The laughter immediately stopped, although the occasional snicker could still be heard.

"Potter cursed us!" Derrick cried out.

Montague blinked. "You can speak! And so can I! So much for your curse."

Harry looked innocent. "Who said the spell was broken?"

"Why you little." Derrick lunged after Harry, singing something from _The Rhinegold_ when Snape grabbed Derrick's collar.

"You will not attack your housemates." 

"But he attacked us!" protest Montague.

Harry scowled.

And to Harry's surprise, so did Snape. "I'm not a fool, Mr. Potter does not attack unless he has, what he believes, to be good cause." He looked around then back at the two seventh years. "And considering your record, I'm sure he had very good reason."

He turned and looked at Harry. "You will finish the spell after dinner tonight. I will let the other professors know not to interfere."

"Yes, Professor." Harry almost swore there was something like approval in Snape's eyes. He then dismissed as wishful thinking.

Snape passed out the schedules. "Let this be a lesson to you all. If you must attack a wizard more powerful then you," he ignored the glares that Harry was getting, "then have a viable plan. Not everyone will cast the Speak No Evil curse when attacked. Now, to breakfast. All of you!"

* * *  
Blaise caught up with Harry a few steps out of the common room.

"Nice spell."

"Thank you."

"What did they do to you?"

"Insulted one of my friends."

Blaise winced. "Well, I suppose it serves them right then. Even Draco knows better then that. It doesn't stop him, but at least he knows better."

"I'm still surprised that Snape didn't stop the spell."

The effeminate boy shrugged. "Snape doesn't suffer fools. They were stupid to attack you, so they have to face the consequences."

Harry nodded, and the two walked the rest of the way in silence.

* * *  
Breakfast was its usual noisy affair. Harry slipped away from the Slytherin table right after Derrick and Montague started singing _All I Ask of You_ while passing condiments back and forth.

He met up at the Ravenclaw table where Ron was also waiting, and the lot were staring at the unusually noisy Slytherin table.

"Why are they singing, Harry?" Hermione pointed at the two increasingly frustrated Slytherins.

"Oh them? They started going on about how you were a Mudblood. Thought I might shut them up."

Ron looked at Harry. "But they're singing!"

Harry nodded. "Exactly. If anything they'll think twice before trying again."

"Why isn't anyone stopping it?"

"Snape won't let anyone. I just have to take the spell off after dinner tonight."

"I really don't get you guys."

Harry shrugged the comment off, he didn't feel like explaining why he had to do it. "We're running out of time. What do you guy's have?"

"I've got History of Magic and Care of Magical creatures with you, Harry, and potions with Ron. I think we've got Transfigurations alone this year."

Harry scanned his schedule. "Well, at least we still have Divination with you, Ron. I've got Potions and Herbology with Gryffindor. I guess we have Defense Against the Dark Arts alone this term, although, that's funny, I don't see it listed on my schedule."

Hermione frowned. "Mine either."

"Nor mine." Confirmed Ron.

"Speaking of which, who's the new teacher?"

Just then, Dumbledore stood up and Harry and Ron quickly hurried back to their seats. Once everyone was settled and the hall was quiet, the Headmaster began to speak.

"In the excitement of last night, I forgot to mention a change in your schedules. As you've all surely noticed by now, none of you have Defense Against the Dark Art classes listed. This is due to the fact that I was unable to find a suitable professor in time." He waited until the commentary about Quirrell/Lockheart/Barty-Crouch-as-Moody had died down, before he continued, "In the mean time, Defense instruction will be held in the evening after supper. Professor Snape will teach Gryffindors and Slytherins. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff by Professor Flitwick. Your respective Head of Houses will arrange timetables for these lessons. Do take these lessons seriously; while you will not be graded on them, what you will learn may yet save your life. Now! Let's sing the school anthem and get this year underway!"

Harry sang it to the fight song of the Chudley Cannons. Draco picked a funeral dirge. The curse on Derrick and Montague picked an old witch's lullaby and Albus Dumbledore smiled above them all.

* * *  
History of Magic with Professor Binns was every bit as boring as he remembered it. Harry couldn't get over the fact that there were as many goblin rebellions as there had been, and found himself bemoaning the fact to Blaise after class.

"You can't tell me that nothing else of significance happened in how many years have wizards been around?"

Blaise shrugged. "Don't look at me. I'm not quite sure what we're supposed to be learning anyway."

Draco trailed behind them as Hermione ran to catch up. Draco caught her by the robe, stopping her from interrupting, nearly tripping her in the processes.

She turned around and hissed, "What do you think you're doing!"

"What does is it look like? I'm letting Blaise and Harry talk without you interfering."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm his friend, Malfoy. I have every right to talk to him."

"And I'm his Housemate. Listen, Granger. Harry got sorted into the one house that loathes him the most. Right now, he needs someone that he can confide in until the rest of us get used to his being around, and vice versa. He will not be an outcast in his own House, and I won't let you do anything that might make him one."

"I just wanted to ask him if he wanted to study"

"Do it at lunch." With that he let her go and walked away. Hermione looked for Harry but he was no longer to be seen. She watched Malfoy head off before leaving for Transfigurations, with a lot on her mind. 

* * *  
By the time dinner rolled around, everyone was ready for the day to end. Despite a pitch-perfect rendition of "Eat It" during lunch, and apparent glorious performance of "Ode to Joy" by Montague during Charms (at least that's what he heard from a seventh year named Aaron Carter, who was apparently quite relieved that he wasn't on the receiving end of the curse-Montague had gotten detention for his outburst), the two boys singing was starting to grate on everybody's nerves. However, none of them were about to go to against Snape's orders and remove the spell themselves. As soon as dinner was finished though, and Harry was headed towards the Slytherin dungeons, when Montague and Derrick ran up to him, practically begging to take the spell off.

With a solemn look on his face, Harry pulled out his wand and muttered _Finite Incantatum_. 

The two boys sighed in relief, quickly bolting for someplace that wasn't near where Harry Potter was.

Harry went to his room, and pulled quill and parchment out, deciding he wanted to write to Sirius. He briefly debated using one of the end tables, but decided that complete privacy was even better. He grabbed his things and headed up to the Owlery.  
  
* * *  
The Owlery was relatively quiet when Harry entered. Many were out delivering notes, or hunting. He situated himself on a windowsill.

_Dear Sirius,_

_I'm not quite sure how else to say it, so I guess I'll be direct. I'm a Slytherin now. I guess I'm not really surprised. The letter I got did say I was going to be re-Sorted. Where else would the Hat have put me? Hermione is in Ravenclaw; I'm not surprised by that either. The only person smarter then her that I know of is Dumbledore! Ron is in Hufflepuff. He's not very happy about that, and we only have Divination together. It's weird being away from them, but I'll get used to it, I suppose. The other big shock was Goyle getting resorted into Hufflepuff. I wonder why Dumbledore would pick him, and no one else from Slytherin who we know that have Death Eater parents? Maybe he thinks that if he separates Goyle from the others that maybe he can be saved? _

_I'm still not sure why Dumbledore would do this though. Hermione says that this has never happened before. What's so special now that he'd change the rules?_

_Anyway, on the bright side of things, Snape is being less awful towards me. He didn't even end a non parli malvagita curse that I put on two obnoxious seventh years. Blaise Zabini tells me because they deserved it. I'll say this much, I doubt they'll bother me again for a while. It may have not been painful, but it will take some time before they live this one down._

_Otherwise things are pretty much going as expected. Draco still doesn't like me, although at least he's calling me Harry now. Crabbe just stares at me. It's kind of creepy. Blaise has been helpful, and a few second and third years at lunch asked me to teach them that curse._

_Oh! And one last thing. We have no official DADA classes this year. I guess Dumbledore didn't want a repeat of incidents from last year. Snape will be teaching us informally. I'm not sure when that will be starting._

_Hope you are well, and Buckbeak,_

_Harry_

Harry rolled up the parchment, and tied it to Hedwig's leg and sent her on her way. He hoped that one day he'd be able to write these letters in the open again. For now, he didn't dare to.

He slipped back to the Slytherin dorm, and was back before curfew.  



	3. The Way of Slytherin

See chapter one for disclaimers and contact information  
  
3. The Way of Slytherin 

The next day brought with it the dubious pleasures of Divination, and Double Potions, as well as a free period. Ron was clearly pleased to see Harry as he finished the climb up the silvery ladder into the incense heavy room. If anything, Harry noted, the air was so thick this year that not a few people were coughing until someone discreetly opened a window to let some fresh air in.

Harry and Ron took up seats on two brightly colored pillows towards the back of the class as the tower slowly filled.

"How're you doing Ron?"

He shrugged. "It's all right I guess. I'm going to try out for Quidditch"

"Good luck."

"Are you?"

"Snape expects me to."

Before Ron could respond to that, Trelawney caught their attention.

"This year. This year we shall learn to unravel the secrets of the human aura and use them to predict our future." She looked Harry straight in the eye and gasped. "Oh Mr. Potter. Your aura is black, black as the night sky. I fear you will die screaming in pain."

Harry muttered, "Why couldn't I die in my sleep for once?"

Ron snickered, and thus began another boring lecture. Harry really wished he could be anywhere but here. 

* * *  
Harry picked at his food during lunch. Out of tradition, he always lost his appetite right before the first potions period of the term.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're in Slytherin now. We can get away with murder in that class and he still won't take points away." He shifted in his seat slightly. "Besides. Snape's already asked me to tutor you."

"WHAT?!"

Blaise touched a hand to Harry's shoulder. "Calm down. It's not the end of the world."

Harry groused. "I haven't even been to class yet and I've already been given a tutor?"

Draco shrugged. "If you get good at doing potions on your own, then it won't look like so much a stretch for him to not take points away from you, will it?"

Harry didn't answer verbally, choosing instead to stab his potpie with the fork instead.

* * *  
"Mr. Potter! What have I told you about talking in my class! Ten points from"

Harry smiled angelically up at Professor Snape.

Snape sighed. Draco snickered despite himself. Snape growled.

"Never mind. Seamus! 10 points from Gryffindor for talking to Potter!"

Harry looked over apologetically at Seamus. He shrugged and gave the sigh of a long-suffering Gryffindor. Harry hoped that Dean and Seamus wouldn't become the new target now that the trio of Ron/Hermione/Harry was no more, however he wasn't getting his hopes up. He only felt vaguely guilty though: Snape seemed to pick on Gryffindor's no matter who was in that House.

He and Blaise were cleaning up the remains of the ingredients from the lightening potion (which was now sparking away happily in their Unbreakable jar) when Snape called them to attention once more.

"As you know, the Headmaster was unable to find anyone suitable to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, and has entrusted me with the job of making sure you don't get yourselves killed because of ignorance. After consultation with Professor McGonagall, we have decided that we will meet on Thursdays, at eight pm. I would remind you that though you will not be graded and that there will no exams that this class is mandatory. Therefore, I will see you tomorrow night."

A variety of "Yes, Professor Snape's" filled the room, and the last of the messes were cleaned up before they were kicked out of the dungeon.

* * *  
After dinner found Draco and Harry back down in the dungeons. 

"We couldn't study in the library or the common room because" Harry asked as he set his books down.

"Because we can't do any practical work if we have to."

Harry made a face.

"You really don't like potions, do you?" There was no hint of mockery, just an honest question.

Harry shook his head as he pulled out his notes from the past few years. "Not really. I've never had much head for it, and with Professor Snape always hovering over me like he did didn't exactly help anything. Hermione always tried to help me out, but you know. It's hard to really work at something you don't care for."

Draco nodded. "Well, Snape wants you to at least not be an embarrassment to him, so you'll actually have to try now."

Harry laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"You sound like McGonagall."

Draco made a face. "Now that's just low."

"Then stop talking like a teacher."

"I wasn't talking like a teacher." His face drew up into a half snarl, making him look extremely insulted to have anything to do with teachers or teaching.

Harry laughed even harder. "Now you're sulking!"

Draco sniffed. "I am not. Malfoy's don't sulk!"

"Were too." Harry was way too amused by this.

"Shove it." He pushed Harry's book under his nose. "Now tell me what each one of the ingredients in that potion does."

* * *  
The next morning at breakfast, something happened that Harry thought never would: Crabbe spoke more then a few words, and not even to Draco, but to him.

"Um. Harry?"

Harry looked around, at first not realizing that in fact it was actually Crabbe speaking. Once he did figure it out, he asked, "Yes?"

"Can you help me with Care of Magical Creatures?"

It was pretty much a given that Harry was the best in the House at that class, if for no other reason then he got along with Hagrid and actually attempted to do the work, no matter how dangerous or disgusting it may be.

"What did you need help with? I'll not feed your creature."

"I can do that. It's that essay."

Hagrid had assigned them a five-foot essay on the creature of their choice, providing they hadn't already covered it in class. It was rare of him to assign homework like that, so Harry had (rightly) assumed that it was because of the OWLs that were forthcoming at year's end.

"What do I get in return?"

One lesson Harry learned quickly was that no one did anything for free in Slytherin. After a few hours in the dungeon last night, and some pressing by Harry, Draco finally admitted that he agreed to help Harry because Snape had promised him points for the House-and limited access to his potion stores. Harry wasn't surprised; he and Draco still ignored other more often then not since Snape disapproved of their bickering. He mused that Draco have earned a number of points for him to consider spending so much time with Harry, let alone to help him.

Crabbe thought about it. He knew there wasn't much he could offer Harry on the homework side-Draco was helping him with potions, Harry managed pretty well at DADA, although Crabbe knew more about the Dark Art part then the rest. Crabbe didn't take divination and his charms work was laughable, although he and Harry were at an equal level in transfiguration and herbology. Harry had been surprised to learn all this, but after the initial shock wore off, he realized that it was all part of an act. He had to give Crabbe points for the effort. No one in Gryffindor would have ever pegged the guy for having any kind of talent in anything. They'd all been fooled.

"When we go to Hogsmeade, I'll take you to the new muggle clothing shop and get you some new clothes to wear under your robes."

"Excuse me?"

Draco and Blaise joined the conversation at this point. "You mean you actually _like_ what you have in that closet of yours?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Well, no." Harry hated his muggle stuff. Even after four years at Hogwarts he still wore Dudley's cast offs: he'd never been able to find a way to get to the muggle shops himself, and even if he had it would have been difficult to explain where he got the money without revealing his Gringott's account to his greedy relatives. "But I don't see why it's suddenly the concern of all of you."

Blaise looked at Harry sympathetically. "Not only are most Slytherin pureblood," no one could point fingers at Harry because technically, he was too, "but all of have an impeccable taste for the finer things in life-including clothing. Got to look the part after all." He paused. "I think he also needs a hair cut."

Draco and Crabbe agreed almost instantly. "I'll even throw that in too."

Harry was outnumbered and he knew it, but he also realized that he'd be getting a good bargain. A few hours helping him and he'd have some proper fitting clothes and a decent hair cut.

"All right. I'll do it. But I'm not writing your essay for you." 

Crabbe nodded, "Agreed."

Just then post owls flew in overhead, and Hedwig landed on Harry's shoulder. To his surprise, Pig crash-landed on the table just barely missing his roll. He gave them both a scrap of food and sent them on their way. Harry opened the first scroll, which he quickly recognized as having Sirius' handwriting. 

Looking around he saw that Blaise was now immersed in the paper, and Draco and Crabbe were looking through the day's supply of sweets, so he opened it.

_Harry,_

_For the time being, I think it would be best if you called me Snuffles in your letters again. We both know why._

Harry nodded slightly to himself.

_I'm not sure what to say about this whole Sorting affair-I'm sure Dumbledore had it done for a reason, we both know that although a Gryffindor, he's as cunning as a Slytherin, if not even more so! I am glad to see you taking the whole thing so stoically. Please do tell me if they give you problems, I'm sure we can work something out._

_As for your DADA situation, I can't say I'm surprised. After the mess of the last few years, I too would be throwing my hands up in the air trying to find anyone trustworthy. I'm more surprised at his appointing Snape, but undoubtedly he'll know some good stuff, so pay attention._

_Not sure when I'll see you next, but you know the drill. Don't send Hedwig next time._

_Snuffles_

Harry rolled up scroll, setting it aside him, deciding next time to read the letters in private so he wouldn't have to worry about getting asked about them. He opened the scroll from the Weasley's, surprised to find Fred and George's handwriting on it considering they were only sitting a few tables away.

_Harry!_

_So you got re-Sorted into Slytherin. That's got to be horrid. If Draco gives you any trouble just write back and we'll slip you some of our newest candies to get back at them._

Harry grinned despite the slur on his House. As he had suspected at the end of the last year with the rather dubious attitudes of the Ministry of Magic, their mom hadn't been keen on them joining up after all, and had let them work on their gags as long as they promised to not let them get in the way of their studies.

_Mom told us to tell you that she's worried, so if you could send her an owl convincing her that you're not the target of assassination, it'd be most appreciated it. As always, dad has more questions about muggle things he wants answered. I'm sure soon enough he'll owl you with his questions._

_One last thing: try and see Ron a little more, would you? He's doing all right in Hufflepuff but he misses you Harry, not that he'll ever admit it. Go_

Harry had to squint to make out the next word. He suspected that the word "study" was initially there, but then the thought of actually suggesting that they do that was too horrid for the twins. 

_Goplay wizards chess or exploding snap or something. It's for your own good_

George's handwriting took over at that point.

_And now that we sound like our mum, we're going to take off. Take care Harry._

_Fred & George_

Harry rolled that scroll up and placed it in his sack, now that it was time to go to transfigurations. He walked with the other fifth years, although none of them were chatty, for which Harry was relieved. Ron missed him? It had only been a few days since the term started. Still, he was always up for a game of exploding snap and his best competition had always been Ron.

* * *  
The day was unexceptional. Transfigurations had been difficult as always: they were attempting to convert ordinary muggle teapots into those similar in the children's song. Harry had gotten the dance, but its singing was awful. The thing sounded tone deaf. He still wasn't quite sure where he went wrong, but time ran out before he could fix it.

Professor McGonagall announced they'd continue this work next time due to the fact that no one had managed to successfully transform their kettle, and gave them several chapters of reading to do.

If Harry noticed the slightly pitying and concerned look the she gave him as he left, he made no sign of it.


	4. Defense Isn't Just for the Dark Arts

4. Defense Isn't Just For the Dark Arts 

That night was the first night of the unofficial Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Upon entering the DADA classroom (Snape got it by the virtue that the Charms room was equally suitable for Defense), Harry had spent the first several minutes chatting pleasantly with his old House friends, who all made it a point to tell Harry how much he was missed. They were also wondering if he was going to try out for the Slytherin team-and were very disappointed (and some quite bitter) when he said he was, not bothering to hide it.

He moved to the other side of the classroom at that point, bothered by what had just happened. Draco had that smug smile on his face that said that he wanted to say something like "I told you so," but before he could Snape walked into the room. There was a scramble of Gryffindors trying to get to their seats while Harry and the other Slytherins calmly took theirs.

Snape didn't waste any time with preamble.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts may well one day save your life. One thing that Dumbledore and I have agreed on in the past is that the ministry underestimates what you can handle, which is why he did not interfere in your lessons dealing with the Imperius Curse last year. Who knows? Had Mr. Potter not learned how to throw it off he may not be with us today."

Harry felt the goosebumps as they crawled up his spine. Perhaps Snape hadn't changed that much after all.

"But he is alive, and that is why we will be continuing along a similar course of study. Since these are "unofficial" lessons the ministry has no say in what I teach. I assure you, however, that I will keep your contact with the Dark Arts to a minimumwe wouldn't want anyone complaining to their parents, now would we?" The last was said with a distinct look at the Gryffindors who squirmed in their seat.

"Tonight I will be testing your skills. I want to know what counter curses you already know, and if you can disarm an opponent. If we have time I will also check your cursing skills. The best way to not get attacked is make sure your opponent can't attack you. Many of our lessons will focus on this fact. If you find it disagreeable, go talk to Professor McGonagall and get yourself in with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. I'm sure Professor Flitwick's class will be more to your liking."

The other Slytherins were smirking in the Gryffindors' direction. For their part, they were glaring back.

Harry felt the looks of both Houses upon him, as if making him choose sides. He didn't look at either group, instead staring ahead at the chalkboard, relieved to have the match end when Snape called out

"Longbottom, Neville!"

Harry winced as Neville ended up on the floor twenty seconds later, in a full body bind, but thankfully at least the other students had forgotten about him.

* * *  
Snape worked his way around the room. Many of the Gryffindors lasted longer than Neville had, although they all eventually ended up in some kind of curse that restricted movement at the end. Much to everyone's protest, Snape didn't remove them either, instead moving the students to the side so he could continue testing. 

To everyone's surprise, he was just as relentless with the Slytherins. Millicent Bulstrode got a jellylegs curse. Pansy Parkinson couldn't control her arms. Even Draco Malfoy ended up being petrified.

"Potter, Harry."

"The best for last," Harry thought darkly.

"Draw your wand and bow."

Harry did as he was told, ducking out of the bow towards the side as a curse flew right past where he was standing.

Harry pointed his wand at Snape and yelled, "STUPEFY!"

The spell reflected off of some kind of shield surrounding Snape and hit nearby Pansy instead. Harry ducked out of the way of another body-bind curse and yelled, "EXPELLIARMUS!"

Snape's wand came flying out of his hand, the distraction was enough to break the barrier.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALLUS!"

Now that Snape was wandless, the shield was gone and this time the spell hit its mark, and Snape toppled over. Everyone watched wide-eyed as Harry walked over to the fallen professor.

"Finite Incantatum"

Snape stood up, taking his wand back from Harry.

Everyone waited for Snape to kill the Boy Who Lived. Harry, now drained of his bravery, and looking absolutely pale, took a few steps back as his mind raced of thoughts consisting of "Oh fuck. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm so dead." Several Gryffindors (well, the ones that could move enough to do so) even winced on Harry's behalf. 

Snape smiled grimly. "Well done Mr. Potter. Twenty points for Slytherin. There may be hope for you yet. Now sit down."

Harry nodded. Still looking dazed, he retook his seat.

"I've left the rest of you as you are so you can contemplate this: as you now stand, you are all dead. There is nothing to stop your assailant from casting any number of spells upon you, including _Avada Kevardra_. As should be obvious, we have a lot of work to be done. Mr. Potter, you may release your classmates. We will meet here again in one week's time."

Snape left the room a cruel smirk on his face; leaving Harry to free the cursed students, many of them throwing bitter looks at the professors retreating figure, and muttering a clipped "thank you" to Harry before leaving.

* * *  
A half hour later, Harry sat in the Slytherin common room working on his History of Magic essay, struggling as he tried to keep yet another group of goblins straight.. Stories of what had happened in the DADA class had already spread throughout Slytherin, and his housemates were looking at him with a mixture of awe (the third years and lower), indifference (fourth and fifth years, who for the most part were used to Harry) and scorn (sixth and seventh years, with the exception of Montague and Derrick who treated him with respect). Harry was about to give up on the essay and go back to his dorm when Snape slipped into the common room.

Snape looked around, and sent Millicent to get Pansy. Once the two girls returned he ordered the fifth years to follow him. Harry looked at Draco for an explanation, but Draco looked equally confused.

They were lead down into the potions dungeon, where they all took a seat.

"Tonight was a disgrace to the Slytherin house. I've never seen such ill prepared students before, ever! I know what Crouch taught you. You all should have been able to at least last longer then you did!"

Someone spoke up. "But sirwe haven't had the experience that Harry has had in dueling!"

" Mr. Potter, how many duels have you been in total?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Two, sir. Once in the dueling club second year, and once with Voldemort."

Many of his classmates winced. Children of Death Eaters or not, they were all still afraid of the Dark Lord and never referred to him as anything but the epithet. 

"Now try telling me again that Potter has had more practice over you."

No one spoke up.

"Luckily, the Gryffindors are in no better shape then you are, but I refuse to let it stay that way. I want a three-foot essay on a defensive spell of your choice ready for me next Tuesday. I will go over them, and if any of you have chosen well, you will get five points and we will review them at the next lesson. Dismissed. Mr. Potter, I want you to stay behind."

Harry nodded silently and his classmates left the dungeon.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between the two men for several minutes as Snape straightened up his potions cabinet.

"You did well tonight, but you could do much better. You won't be able to duck every spell thrown at you."

Harry nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"That being said, I have no doubts in my mind that you were the only one to even think of trying to disarm me. A wise decision. Every fight is a duel whether or not it is started that way."

Harry nodded again, slower this time.

"IMPERIO!"

Harry almost toppled off his stool, and it took all his strength to grasp onto the side of the table, to ignore the voice in his head that was telling him to give his wand to Snape.

Sweat started to form along the hairline, but he finally shook his head and threw it off, "I WON'T GIVE YOU MY WAND!"

Snape nodded. "Five points. Being able to do that even when attacked unexpectedly will serve you well. Your reflexes need some fine tuning, you need to trust magic a little more for your defense, but I imagine you haven't ever really had a chance to practice those, have you?"

"No, Sir. I haven't."

"After our lesson I went and spoke with Dumbledore. We both agree that you could use some advanced training. If you agree to this, in addition to our weekly lesson, you will spend an additional two hours a week training with me. We will work on counter curses, defenses like the shielding spell I cast during our lesson, and possibly some passive charms that you can keep on at all time. In exchange, you will teach the first years of all four houses basic Defense skills. Because of your age you will take them one House at a time, and a lesson plan would be provided. Sixth and Seventh years will be teaching the second and third years."

"But between all that and Quidditch practice, I won't have much time for homework."

Snape smiled wryly. "And I here I had the distinct impression that you didn't care about doing it. Still, the Headmaster has agreed to let you drop Divination if you agree to this deal. I didn't think you'd object to that. I'm sure you must be running out of ways to die by now."

Harry snickered despite himself, and he smiled. He didn't think he'd ever be free of Madame Trelawney and her headache-inducing incense.

"He has also graciously agreed to provide you with a small stipend for your work. It won't be easy."

Harry stood there, not quite sure what to say. He hated Divination with a passion, and he'd do anything to get out of it, and the things Snape would teach him would be a lot more useful then any tea reading. On the other hand, he'd lose his only class with Ron, and one of the only times he could count on seeing him.

Snape took a good look at Harry. "You may tell me in the morning when you come down to breakfast. I would give you more time, but if you turn this down we will need to find another student to teach in your place."

"Yes, Professor. Is there anything else?"

"Are you getting along all right with the rest of your classmates?"

Harry nodded. "I'm starting to, yes."

"Good. Nothing further then. Now go back to your room. Don't make me take points off for breaking curfew."

"Goodnight, Professor."

Snape nodded and Harry left.

* * *  
Back inside the common room, Harry gathered his books up. He had nothing due tomorrow and he knew if he tried reading his history book again none of it would stick. Draco and Crabbe were in the middle of a game of Wizard's chess, paying him no mind. He did see Blaise discreetly pack up his things and follow Harry back to the room.

"What did Professor Snape want?" Blaise asked as soon as he had draped himself on his own bed.

"He wanted to check some of my other reflexes." He paused, deciding how much he wanted to tell Blaise. "He also wants me to teach first years Defense against the Dark Arts."

"Wow."

Harry shrugged. "They're picking a sixth and seventh year to teach the second and third years. I guess this way they don't over burden Snape and Flitwick."

"What will you get in return?"

"Because of the time involvement, I won't have to take Divination, and I'll get a small stipend. "

Blaise considered it. "That's not bad, I suppose. Are you going to do it?"

"I want to, because I know I won't miss Divination, and if I can prevent another student from dying it'd be worth it"

"But?"

Harry was oddly glad that Blaise didn't try a "But it wasn't your fault Diggory died speech"

"But. I would lose the only class I have with Ron, plus what little time I would have to spend with him."

"He means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

Harry nodded, not caring to elaborate.

"It's up to you Harry, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made."

With that Blaise closed the curtain around his bead, leaving Harry to think.

* * *  
The next morning, Harry went up to the Head Table, where Snape was currently smearing a scone with honey.

"I'll do it, sir."

Snape nodded, and handed him a scroll, as if he'd never doubted that Harry would say yes. "That contains information about what you're to teach, rules for discipline and the like. You are to come to a meeting on Sunday after lunch in the teachers lounge to discuss all of that. You are to have read the information ahead of time."

"Yes, Professor." Harry returned to his seat.

"What was that about, Harry?" Draco asked.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Draco scowled. "Who would have thought that Snape would start to like you?"

"Never said anything about liking me, did I? And besides, you're still tutoring me in potions, so you can lord that over me."

Draco didn't look up from his eggs. "True. You'll never be any good at that."

Harry rolled his eyes.

Not long after the morning post was delivered, Dumbledore stood up.

"As you all know, Defense Against the Dark Art courses started this week for fourth years and above. I want to reassure those of you third year and below that we have not forgotten you."

Several of the younger Slytherins perked up at this. After hearing what the older students had been doing, they wanted to go too.

"However, it is unreasonable for Professors Flitwick and Snape to do all the teaching themselves. Therefore, we have enlisted three students to act as junior staff and teach you. Now, just to reassure you those of you who might get jealous, they are not receiving any special privileges for their hard work, unless you count admittance to the Teacher's lounge a privilege! However, you will treat them with respect as they can give out detention during classes, as well as take or deduct House points as they see fit. Now! Teaching first years will be Mr. Harry Potter of Slytherin."

Harry stood up and tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement, startled that Dumbledore had announced it so quickly after he accepted. Maybe he was the last one they offered the position to. Looking around the table, Draco seemed startled, and the first years seemed pleased. Hermione flashed him a smile from the Ravenclaw table.

"Next up, teaching the second years will be Cho Chang of Gryffindor."

Cho stood up, flashed a smile at Harry and nodded.

"And finally, teaching the third years will be Su Li of Ravenclaw."

She stood up and nodded as well, smiling at the students around her, and then all three sat down.

"You will receive revised schedules on Monday listing when you will meet with your teacher. Have a good day all."

* * *  
Harry started heading towards the library to work on his History of Magic essay, when Dumbledore stopped him in the halls.

"I want to thank you for agreeing to do this, Harry. It will be a lot of hard work, but I'm sure you'll excel at it."

"Thank you, Sir."

"I've taken the liberty of already making your new schedule up for you so you'll know what you're facing. All you've got left to do is talk to Professor Trelawney; inform her that you'll no longer be taking her class, and come up with a lesson plan. As long as you cover what's in the scroll, you may do so in any order you like. You also have my permission to use the classroom when no one else is occupying it to practice your newly taught skills. Now, I must be going, and I will see you on Sunday right after lunch!" He patted Harry on the shoulder and was on his way. Harry watched Dumbledore leave, then looked down at the scroll in his hand stupidly, trying to digest everything that had happened in the span of a half hour. Shaking his head, he went into the library, found a seat and looked at his new schedule. It didn't seem too bad, he now had DADA classes where he otherwise would have had Divination. His Saturdays would be free, which was nice. He could make time to meet Ron and Hermione then. Although not looking forward to them, he saw the Sunday meetings as a necessary evil. He made a note to himself to speak to Trelawney during lunch, pulled out the scroll from Snape and started working on a vague lesson plan, figuring that Snape could help him fill it out later.

Time quickly passed, and Harry was so absorbed in his work that he didn't hear Ron until the redhead spoke in his ear.

"Teaching Defense are you? You nuts?" asked Ron.

Harry startled, and turned to see Ron grinning down at him. "Quite possibly." Harry ruefully agreed. "How'd your lesson with Flitwick go?"

"It's all right. Not as good as Lupin though. What'd Snape have you do?"

"We dueled, basically. He managed to curse everyone but me."

Ron's voice tightened slightly. "I'm sure he was thrilled with that."

Harry had the grace to blush. "I actually earned 20 points for it."

"Oh."

Harry hadn't noticed that Ron had picked up his new schedule until Ron asked, "Harry? Where's divination?"

"Ah yeah. I'm not taking it anymore."

"What do you mean you're not taking it any more?!" His voice was loud enough that Madame Pince gave them a look.

"Calm down, Ron. With all the Defense stuff, I wouldn't have the time for it."

"Oh." He colored slightly in anger. Harry could hear the heat in his words when Ron continued, "But that was our only class together!"

"I know. Sorry about that." Harry took the scroll back, hoping that Ron hadn't noticed the blocks marked advanced DADA. "Don't look so glum. I've got Saturdays free that we can meet up during, and time on Sunday morning as well! I'm sure we can find some other times during the week too."

Ron shook his head. "Probably not. Your free periods are all different then mine."

Awkward silence came between them, and soon they heard a bell ring. "I guess I've better be off," Harry offered. "Got potions next. Talk to you soon?"

"Yeah. Sure."

Ron watched Harry leave, then left for Transfigurations himself.

* * *  
Harry tried talking to Ron during the lunch break, but Ron was now in one of those "I'm not talking to you" moods and had Goyle relate the message. He wasn't sure if Goyle being Ron's henchman or Crabbe offering to take Harry clothes shopping was stranger.

Professor Trelawney told Harry she had forseen the end of their partnership and warned him to beware the ides of September. He kindly thanked her and went to Double Charms.  
* * *  
After dinner, Harry caught up with Hermione before she was able to go through the tapestry into the Ravenclaw common room.

"Hermione, wait!"

She turned around, her face lighting up when she saw Harry. "Hey Harry!"

"Would you take a walk with me?"

"Of course." She handed her things to Padma who kindly agreed to take them up to the dorm.

Harry lead them outside, onto the path that leads to Hagrid's hut. Once they were safely out of hearing range of other people, she asked,

"What's wrong, Harry?"

"Have you talked to Ron since breakfast?"

She nodded. "Just for a few minutes though. He seemed upset."

"Did he say why?"

"Something about divinations. Couldn't make out what though. You know what Ron's like when he gets into that kind of mood."

Harry nodded.

"What happened between you two?"

Harry sighed. "He's upset because I dropped Divination."

Hermione almost squealed before she caught herself. "That's grea shame. Why did you drop it though? Because you're teaching?"

Harry nodded.

She smiled. "Congratulations on that. Just don't let it interfere with your work. Remember, we have OWLs this year!"

Harry smiled kindly. "We haven't even been here a week yet!"

"True. But no time like the present to start thinking about them."

"I'll try, promise. I'm even getting help in potions."

Hermione looked surprised. "You are?"

Harry almost blushed, and muttered "SnapekindofmadeDracodoit"

If she thought it odd that Snape was looking out for Harry, or that Draco actually agreed, she made no sign of it. "Good. Take advantage of that. Malfoy's good at it, even if he's too lazy to make the potion himself."

Harry looked at Hermione.

"What?" she said irritably.

"I thought you hated Draco."

"I do."

"Then why did you give him credit for his potions work when you usually do the preparations?"

She shrugged. "He's helped me a few times, and he does do some of the prep work. I don't mind actually making the potion. I find it kind of relaxing really."

"Only you, Hermione."

She flashed a quick smile at him. 

They reached Hagrid's hut and knocked, no one answered, although Fang barked away madly.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe he's doing errands for Dumbledore?"

She nodded. "Probably." They turned around and headed back towards the castle. "Do you have any plans for the Hogsmeade weekend? I was thinking maybe the three of us could hit up all the old places, and get some butterbeer? Try and patch things up between you and Ron."

"I'd like to, but I can't."

"You can't?"

Harry shook his head, and smiled ruefully. "I'm going shopping with Draco, Crabbe and Blaise. They don't think I look Slytherin enough. Crabbe is paying for the excursion since I'm helping him with his Care of Magical Creatures essay. I was outnumbered, so I figured I might as well go along with it." He saw her look of confusion, and waved his hand. "It's a Slytherin thing." 

She paused briefly, "Ron'll be disappointed you know."

Harry nodded. "I know. And I don't want to disappoint him. But you know. I'm a Slytherin now. I can't ignore them anymore, because they are my housematesit's just one of those things, I guess

"Hopefully Ron will understand that."

Harry's voice sounded flat. "Yeah. Hopefully."

The rest of the walk was made in silence.

* * *  
The next morning, Harry woke early, used to the early morning Quidditch tryout's/Saturday practices that Gryffindor always seemed to have. Then he remembered that they had the pitch last that day, so in theory he could go back to sleep.

In theory.

In reality he was far too awake, so he decided to get some early breakfast and go down to the field, and maybe be able to talk with some friends before he had to try out. He quickly got dressed, grabbed his Firebolt and headed upstairs.

Twenty minutes later he was sitting in the Slytherin stands watching as several Ravenclaws played a mock game to find some new Beaters. It appeared that to replace Cho as Seeker they merely promoted their former reserve player-Ravenclaw hadn't gotten any received Quidditch players in the re-Sort and had to make do with what it already had.

Harry watched the faux match continue. Two of the hopefuls weren't that bad. They were only third year so there was plenty of time to make them something more formidable. The third one was only mediocre. Reserve at best.

Apparently, Hooch and whoever was the new captain had seen what they wanted to, and a whistle blew, calling the players back down to the earth.

Ravenclaw left the pitch, to be replaced by Gryffindors. He noticed the stands on that side starting to fill up a little. He wasn't really sure why they were having tryouts. Almost the entire team from last year (aside from himself) was returning, and now with Cho Chang they had a fairly talented seeker to work for them.

"Spying on us, Harry?" The voice was cold and accusing. 

Harry turned to find Seamus, Dean and Neville looking at him.

In a clipped voice, Harry replied, "For one thing, there's nothing against me sitting here. For another, it's not like I'm seeing anything that I haven't before. I've played against Cho, and everyone else is returning!"

No one had a response to that because everything Harry was saying was true. He'd know this stuff whether or not he watched the tryout.

"Why are you guys on my case anyway? It's not like I asked to be re-Sorted."

Dean shifted slightly. "Maybe not. But Slytherin? I thought you were better then that Harry."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he glared at Dean. "God, you're an idiot, aren't you? Just because I'm in a new House doesn't mean I'm suddenly an entire different person. Did you think that me being there meant I was going to brainwashed into some evil automaton?"

"But Snape doesn't."

Draco's clear voice rang through the crisp air. "Snape doesn't treat Harry as bad as he did because like it or not Harry *is* a Slytherin now and Snape protects his own. Now, unless you have something intelligent to say, bugger off."

Harry turned around to see the rest of the Slytherin fifth years backing him up, all of them showing expressions of various degrees of anger and annoyance.

Outnumbered and with no good comebacks ready, the three Gryffindors left them alone, Neville looking torn between being sympathetic for Harry, and upset because Harry had let Draco tell them off.

"Idiots." Blaise commented. 

"Should have suspected you'd be here early." Draco remarked. "Did you find out anything good about next year's teams?" He sat down on one side, Blaise on the other, the remainder fanning out around them on either side. 

"Not really. Like you probably heard me say to Dean, the Gryffindor team is going to remain the same for one last year, although Cho will be Seeker instead of me. I missed the Hufflepuffs though" 

Draco nodded. "See anyone else?"

"Ravenclaw had more positions to fill. It looks like there new Seeker is the one they used to have on reserve. Not sure of his name. The new beaters aren't bad, but aren't great either. They're third years, I think."

"So Gryffindor still the main competition then?"

"Most likely."

Draco nodded. "Well. Let's get going. We're up next."

Harry nodded, and grabbed his broom. The others wished the two of them luck, then devised a betting pool on the odds of Draco actually getting to keep his position of first string Seeker.

* * *  
At lunch, Harry watched as Pansy collected a nice handful of Galleons from the others.

Draco looked dour and muttered something that Harry was pretty sure he didn't want to actually hear. It sounded something along the lines of "Bloody fucking Potter. We play to win so we use the best! Bastard Snape after my dad bought brooms for everyone last year"

Blaise leaned over and whispered, "He'll be like this for a while. You might want to avoid him. He knew it was coming, but still"

Harry nodded and spent most of the afternoon in the library with Hermione, looking up good stories to tell the first years about why it's important to take Defense Against the Dark Arts seriously.

* * *  
Sunday passed in a blur of studying, and an exceedingly dull meeting about what Harry could and couldn't do as a teacher (although he now had a master list of detentions he could assign on Snape's behalf), and what to do about any problems he might have. The only thing enjoyable about the meeting was getting to see the teacher's lounge (which was currently decorated as a deciduous forest with real trees and complete picnic benches) and to get a cup of a tea that had twice the amount of caffeine, as the normal student variety had, leaving him with a nice buzz for Draco's potions tutoring.

In between quizzing Harry and going over the finer points of a potion they were going to make later in the week, Draco was still sulky over the loss of his position on the Quidditch team.

Harry found that cute, but for the life of him, couldn't figure out why.

* * *  
_Dear Snuffles,_

_Don't know if Dumbledore has sent you anything about this, but I'm helping to teach DADA. To first years. All of them. After the meeting today, I'm convinced that I'm thoroughly nuts. On the bright side, I no longer have to take Divination, and even better I'm going to learn some advanced DADA stuff. I guess this came about because I was the only one of the Slytherin/Gryffindor fifth years that could actually beat Snape in a pseudo-duel when he tested us on Thursday night. Oh yeah. I'm also getting a 2 galleon/week stipend for doing this. I'm including it in my letter. I'm not sure how/what you're living off of, so every little bit helps, right?_

_Saturday was Quidditch tryouts. I made the Slytherin team, much to Draco's dismay (since I took over his spot), but the oddest part of the day was the way Seamus and Dean treated me. I was sitting in the stands watching Cho go through the motions of trying out for Seeker, when they and Neville (who was probably just tagging along) came up to me, accused me of spying, and then demanded to know how I could play for "them" them being Slytherin or something. It's like I've grown a second head or something just because I've changed houses. I'm starting to wonder if we were ever really friends and that just sucks. Suppose I'm lucky I'm so busy this term. Give me less time to mope about these things. Things with Ron aren't much better but I'm not going to dwell on that now._

_Next week is Hogsmeades. Going with the fifth years from Slytherin. Promises to beinteresting. I'll let you know how it went when I come out alive._

_Hope you're well, and Buckbeak,  
Harry_

The tawny owl flew out into the night, and Harry made it back to the dorm just minutes before curfew.

* * *  
Harry sat on the edge of the desk in the Defense classroom, damp hands clutching the edge. He'd tried to eat something, but the butterflies were so strong that all he'd gotten down was a cup of strong coffee. He did nick a pastry for later because he was pretty sure that otherwise his stomach would growl in Transfiguration and he had no intention of drawing undue attention to himself.

Soon he heard footsteps in the hall, and he composed himself, trying to look utterly cool and confident, praying that the Hufflepuffs bought it.

He was prepared for a lot of things. Hero worship and fear weren't among them. There were eight new Hufflepuffs this year; an even split of four boys, and four girls. They all quietly filed into the classroom, the boys excited and chattering away, the girls more timid.

He had a thought. While he had found a nice story expounding on why you should take DADA seriously, he realized that talking about his own experiences might make even more of an impact.

"All right everyone, quiet down!"

To his amazement, it actually worked. He'd have to tell Snape that. Or maybe McGonagall. That had to be the first that ever worked, considering he'd never seen that work in his own classes.

"As I'm all sure you know by now, I'm Harry Potter.

I'm not the Boy Who Lived out of sheer luck. It was defense magic that let me live when Lord Voldemort first attacked my parents and I. It was knowing Defense against the Dark Arts that let me survive the last four years here at Hogwarts. If I did not know how to _Stupefy_, if I didn't know _Petrificus Totalius_ I might not be here today. I've had all three of the Unforgivable Curses thrown at me, and I have lived. But I couldn't do it if not what I had learned in this class."

"This is a hard subject. Just ask the fifth years in Slytherin or Gryffindor! I'm sure they'd be happy to tell you about Professor Snape's idea of a skill check." His smile slipped a little. "It's hard, but you have to try. With the threat of You-Know-Who shadowing the Wizard world again, it's ultimately up to us to keep ourselves safe."

A brunette sitting near the back spoke up in a challenging tone, "So we won't end up like Cedric Diggory?"

Harry's eyes grew cold, his voice hardened. "Cedric died a Champion. He was a good and brave person. All members of Hufflepuff would do well to try and be like him. Next time raise your hand if you have something relevant to say or I will take points. I may not be a full fledged teacher, but I will be treated with respect!"

The boy, apparently now convinced that Harry wouldn't be a total pushover just nodded. No one else was brave enough to fight Harry on this issue.

"All right then. Who can tell me the first thing you should do if you're in a dangerous situation?"

A little girl, one he recognized as Angela from the sorting, raised her hand. "You should run."

Harry nodded. "Five points for Hufflepuff."

She beamed.

"Can someone tell me why?"

No one answered.

"It's better to run, then to fight because if you run, chances are much greater that you'll get to live another day. There's no way to just look at a wizard or witch and be able to know how strong they are. All the reflecting charms in the world won't help you if they knock you out before you can even cast it."

"Then why don't *you* run? " asked the brunette.

Harry picked up the sheet with the list of first years, picking out his picture. "Five points from Hufflepuff, Mr. Burns. I warned you about speaking without permission. Do it again and it'll be detention. But, it is a good question so I'll answer it. I don't run because when facing You-Know-Who I don't have anywhere to run. He picks his battles well, and always has the advantage. Believe me, if I saw You-Know-Who and had a chance to run right away, I would. But I've yet to be in that position, but I still try. I cast spells and I pray to Merlin that I hit something, and if I can find a way, I run. Running is what got me back to Hogwarts in one piece at the end of the Tournament."

Figuring now was a good time as any, Harry launched into the lesson on a basic blocking "Now, in case you _can't_ run, the first thing to do is."

* * *  
Harry collapsed into his chair in Transfiguration. He could tell that Burns was going to be a pain in his arse. He'd already had to give the kid detention, but assigned it for when he was in the dungeons doing work with Draco. He planned to pick one of the nastier assignments on the list to try and break the first year of his disobedience streak. If that didn't work, he'd have Snape start taking larger amounts of points away. He had told Harry that if any of the "brats" failed to obey that he'd gladly do so since no one disrespected Slytherins. Harry considered that a last resort because it would mean that he had no control over the kids at all.

On the bright side of things, he channeled his frustrations into concentrating on the Transfiguration assignment, resulting in his music box turning into the perfect nightingale.

One DADA class down, three more to go, for this week anyway.

* * *  
Su, who was waiting to use the classroom for the third years, flashed Harry a sympathetic smile as he staggered out of the first DADA class with the Gryffindor first years. Someone (Harry fully suspected Seamus and Dean) must have been doing some propaganda against him because it wasn't until he had given all the Gryffindor boys detention and had taken twenty points from the girls _and_ assigned a three foot essay on a DADA master of their choice that he was able to get control.

Fleeing to the common room, Harry suspected he now knew why Gryffindors were Snape's favorite target. 

* * *  
Tuesday passed by quickly enough. Most of the Gryffindors he had taught yesterday refused to look at him in the halls. Rumor had it that McGonagall had reamed out the students when she'd found out what they'd done-and then had given them each an extra detention on top of it. He had a feeling they'd all be well-behaved next week.

Buoyed by this thought, Harry went to his first Advanced DADA lesson.

Reaching the classroom, he'd expected to see Cho and Su there, but they were nowhere to be found.

"It's just us, Mr. Potter."

Harry turned and saw Snape standing in the doorway.

"What about the others?"

Snape swept into the room, sitting on the desk. "They are teaching because Dumbledore asked them to. If you are so curious you may ask them what other deals they made with their respective professors."

Harry nodded.

"Quite frankly, this training wouldn't benefit them. They are smart, and undoubtedly they are good in the subject, but they've never fought as evidenced by Cho having just as little success as her sixth year counterparts-even more disappointing considering her year. By the time she thought to use what she was taught, she'd be dead. Or worse."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.

"Now. We'll start off with defensive spells, like the reflecting spell to prevent you from getting hit at all. We'll then move onto curses even more effective then even the full body bind. Time permitting, we'll cover counter curses."

"Why not cover them sooner?"

Snaped sighed, as if Harry was missing the perfectly obvious, "Because, Mr. Potter, with the kind of enemies you have, if you get struck you won't have time to perform a counter. Therefore, it's better for you not get hit, or to hit first. I trust that makes sense."

Harry blinked. He actually didn't expect an explanation, but was rather pleased to get one. He supposed being in Snape's house had its privileges. "Yes, sir."

"Now. Move to that end of the room" Harry did, as Snape moved towards the door.

"The spell word is _Recurvo_. When properly cast this will block almost all curses, save the strongest of the Dark, including the three Unforgivable curses. The problem with this spell, is that it requires your concentration to keep the magic working. If you lose your focus, or, as you saw in our duel, you lose your wand, the spell ends, leaving you vulnerable. "

"Wouldn't I want to learn a spell to counter them, especially as Voldemort is so fond of casting them."

"In due time, Mr. Potter, _if_ you can get to the point where you can cast _Recurvo_ almost instinctively then you might have a chance to successfully learn _Impenetrâbilis_. If you can't, then the curse would hit before you got _Impenetrâbilis_ up."

Harry nodded in understanding. It also made what Snape said about Cho make more sense: if you have to think about it, you're dead.

"Now. I will cancel any obvious effects of any curses I might, but you are not allowed to see Madame Pomfrey to have bruises or other minor injuries healed. Dumbledore is the only other person who knows that we are doing this, and I intend to keep it that way. Therefore, you will either figure out a spell to heal yourself, or you may make a store of healing potion during your study session-it will be a good test of your skills."

"What will I tell Draco and the others?"

Snape expression was cold. "You're skilled at lying. Make something up."

Harry swallowed. "Yes, Sir."

"Now. No more dallying. _CONTERO_!"

"_Recurvo_!" He saw a small flicker of light, just before the curse hit just below his left elbow. It felt like he'd been punched and he could see a bruise already being to form.

Snape considered. "Not too awful for the first attempt. Again. _Contero_!"

* * *  
Harry hobbled into the Slytherin dorms two hours later. If he didn't look like a giant bruise, he certainly felt like one. He was incredibly thankful that the common room was nearly empty at this point. Bruises ran up and down his legs, arms and torso, and his robes would hide all of them. If he were more optimistic, he would have said that Snape hadn't enjoyed attacking him like that. He didn't know if he'd ever be that optimistic when it came to Snape, but consoled himself with the knowledge that Snape had seemed duly impressed that Harry had progressed as far as he had in the short time they'd had to practice. 

He was asleep within a minute of hitting his bed.  
* * *  
_Dear Harry,_

_Thank you for the money. While I strictly don't need the money, having the extra cushion is nice. However, I'm sure you're working to earn every knut, so I insist that if you want to keep sending me money that you send no more then half of it. I also wish you the best of luck in teaching them anything. I also wish you luck in your advanced studies. Just be sure to exercise judgment when learning something new. If it seems a little too Dark for your taste, it probably is, and request to learn something else._

_I'm glad you are going to keep playing Quidditch; it serves Malfoy right for buying his place onto the team in the first place. I'm not sure what to tell you about your old Housemates, or whatever is going on between you and Ron (if you ever care to discuss it, feel free), but not dwelling on it is probably best._

_Enjoy the trip to Hogsmeade. I'll be moving around a bit in the next few weeks, so it might be best for you not to owl me for a while. I'll send you a note when all is clear again._

_Snuffles._

Harry rolled up the scroll, disappointed he wouldn't be able to write more frequently, but he understood. He said a silent prayer to Merlin that today's DADA class went better then the last.

* * *  
The rest of the week was turning out better then he thought. While he was unable to find a good healing spell that he was capable of performing on himself yet, he did find a potion to make with Draco next Sunday while he was keeping an eye on the kids he had in detention. Even better, there'd be no Slytherins or Ravenclaws joining them. Undoubtedly Snape said something to his housemates, (although giving so many Gryffindors detention in the span of one hour made him something of a hero in the eyes of the Slytherin first years) and the Ravenclaw students were too curious to try and misbehave.

He was able to chat with Hermione for a few minutes during History of Magic. She promised that she and Ron would try and catch up with him in the Three Broomsticks, although he wasn't sure what time they'd make it over there. Ron was still upset over him dropping divination, but was dealing better now and ready to talk to Harry again. From what Hermione had said; Ron was happier. He'd started making some friends amongst the Hufflepuffs and had even made the Hufflepuff Quidditch team as a chaser. Blaise had even said that Ron wasn't half bad for a playerfor a Hufflepuff. Damning praise to be sure, but Harry didn't really expect anything better from any Slytherin.

Harry himself was still getting used to working with his new team. He'd spent enough time with the Gryffindors that he could tell almost instinctively where they were in the air. It'd take time to build that level of rapport with his new team, but he was determined to do so. Unlike Draco (whom Harry suspected of planning something devious) who still blamed Harry for his ousting, the rest of the team was glad to have him aboard, and did their part to get him up to speed.

Slytherin was definitely starting to feel like home.


	5. A Slytherin in Gryffindor Clothing

See chapter one for disclaimers/contact information  
  
5. A Slytherin in Gryffindor Clothing 

Harry's suspicions about Draco's scheming proved to be fact when a bucket of icy cold water woke him from a blissful sleep early on Saturday morning.

"AHHHHHHHH!" Harry grasped for his glasses and looked into the smirking faces of Draco, Blaise, Crabbe, Montague and Derrick.

"What. The. Hell?!"

Draco nodded at Montague and Derrick who walked over to Harry, pulled him out of bed, and with a wave of a wand firmly tied his hands behind his back.

"Today you become a true Slytherin, so I decided we might as well do it right." Draco sounded quite smug and Harry tried to attack him, but the two seventh years held him tight.

"What do you mean "true" Slytherin?" Harry's eyes still flashed in anger, but he was slowly cooling off, having now realized that he wasn't in any real danger.

"Right now you are a Slytherin in Gryffindor's clothing."

Harry blinked, almost all the anger dissolving. He'd known that he was going shopping today.

"And by the end of the day you'll be a Slytherin in Slytherin's clothing. But before we can do that, we've got to do something about those horridthings hanging in your closet that you insist on wearing. _Accio! Accio! Accio! Accio!_"

The doors to Harry's cupboard flew open and his muggle underclothing came flying out.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Draco's innocent smile was truly chilling. "Why, we're burning them of course. No human should have to wear these things." He crinkled his nose. "Blaise, the door?"

Blaise nodded, and Draco led the parade out of the room, followed by Harry's clothes, Harry (under the encouragement of the seventh years), Blaise, then Crabbe. As they reached the common room, there was general hooting and applause, it appears that Draco had gotten the whole House involved. 

Everyone fell into line and Draco marched them out into the crisp morning air, the sun still rising; the morning dew having not yet evaporated. They went out near the lake where a pile of firewood lay ready to be lit. Harry watched as the clothes landed in a heap atop the pile.

Blaise stood up near Draco, and began to speak.

"When we got owls saying that people were to be re-Sorted, many of us were upset. We lost a good friend in Goyle, and we worried that those who came in might sully our name-even if those in other Houses do not truly understand what it means to be Slytherin."

Draco took over. "Surprisingly, Harry Potter did not protest when the Hat yelled out Slytherin. He didn't go running to Dumbledore, demanding to get Sorted one more time. He proved that he wouldn't be pushed around when he hexed Montague and Derrick his first morning in, and when he taught those irritating hypocrite Gryffindors a lesson on the first day that he taught a DADA class. He has even stood up for our House when his so- called friends attacked him. He's proven himself worthy of the name Slytherin."

The small crowd cheered loudly in agreement. Draco called for silence. Harry stood mute, eyes wide at the whole commotion, shocked but at the same time pleased to know that he'd been truly accepted into his new House-something that he never thought could happen.

"However. There is one lingering issue. His clothing. We can't have anyone representing us look so horrible. There is only one thing that can be done. The clothes must burn!" Draco cried gleefully. "Take one good last look at Harry Potter now, because when he gets back, he'll be a whole different Slytherin!"

Harry mewled. He'd later swear that he didn't, and luckily no one heard it because of all the cheering.

_"INCINDIO!"_

_"INCINDIO!"_

_"INCINDIO!"_

With the force of the three spells, the clothing and wood went up in a bright burst of flame. Watching in disbelief, Harry walked over to Draco, his two guards trailing behind. "What am I supposed to wear to breakfast?! And Hogsmeade!"

Draco grinned. "Those will work just fine. They show off your body quite nicely."

Harry blushed.

Blaise laughed. "Relax! This is supposed to be fun, so enjoy yourself! I guarantee this will be a day to go down in history!

* * *  
One thing history books rarely mention is that a full stomach is a necessity for major event to successfully occur. With this knowledge (and growling stomachs), the Slytherins made their way back into the Great Hall in time for breakfast.

Because it was a Hogsmeade weekend, the hall was full of people eating up before making the trek out to town, so almost half the school got to watch as Harry was fed by a charmed fork and spoon, and toast that levitated itself so Harry could bite into it. His pleases to be allowed to feed himself were brushed aside, in favor of making loud conversation about plans for the day.

"Please tell me you're going to take lots of pictures! It sucks that we can't go," sulked a third year. 

Crabbe held up his FlashQuick 2000 Wizarding Camera with built in timer-delayed lumos flash, auto focus, and automatic light adjustment so all pictures turned out perfect in the first shot. Everyone in the house knew about it because it had been Crabbe's favorite topic of conversation for the past week. "Of course I am! I already have a bunch from the wake up call and the bonfire."

Harry ducked his head. "Oh god."

Blaise slapped him on the back hard, nearly sending Harry sprawling into his bowl of oatmeal. "Cheer up. The pictures won't get passed around outside the House."

"Oh that comforts me so much." Harry groused.

Draco pretended to look shocked. "Is that sarcasm I detect?"

"You're rubbing off on him, Draco," someone commented from the other end of the table.

Draco replied good naturedly, "Perhaps I am, but I'm such a good influence, don't you think? Those Gryffindors wouldn't know good wit if it hit them like a jelly-legs curse!"

The lively banter continued across the long table, much to the amusement of the other Houses (who weren't used to such a cheery mood from that table), and from the Head Table itself, where Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall watched with various degrees of interest.

"Come on, Albus. Make them untie Harry, and get him some decent clothes." huffed McGonagall, clearly not amused by the way Harry was being treated.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Why would I do that, Minerva? That'd just break up the festive mood they have going." He sighed wistfully. "If only all the houses were so united."

"It appears I may have to add wandless magic to his studies," Snape added under his breath, even as he couldn't help but smirk at Harry's plight.

Dumbledore nodded slightly, then went back to his kippers, quite pleased with the way things were turning out.

* * *  
It was a fine day to shop, and if Hogsmeade seemed quite busy, the inside of Mr. Kirkpatrick's Wizard Fashions for the Rich and Pureblooded looked like a muggle shopping mall the day before Christmas, as nearly twenty five young Slytherins surrounded Harry Potter, throwing out suggestions about what styles and colors might suit Harry the best.

After ten minutes, the tailor got them to untie Harry's hands.

After fifteen minutes, the tailor got them all to shut up.

Twenty minutes later, Harry was made to model various ensembles. The others took notes, and some made cat calls. Harry's face was beginning to turn a permanent shade of red.

Three hours, and nearly a hundred different outfit and color combinations later, they had decided on one outfit, and a color palette. Harry learned that he was a winter, and that he should wear silver, and not gold, not to mention that darker, or rather "cool" colors suited him best-something everyone found rather handy considering the House colors. He also learned that his build leant itself well to turtlenecks.

By this point Harry desperately wished he had his wand, and an ability to cast _Avada Kevardra_. He somehow suspected that if he did try, he might actually succeed. 

Finally, four hours, twenty two minutes and thirty five seconds after they entered the shop, Harry Potter had enough clothes to constitute a new fall and winter wardrobe, as well as several pairs of shoes. The girls flatly refused to let him buy any warm weather clothes, saying that he'd have to wait for the Spring fashions to come out. 

He was too hungry, and too tired to argue at that point. After throwing on some basics like new underwear and socks, and two tops that Harry really liked after he'd received permission to browse, the bill came to just over 200 galleons. Crabbe paid 150 of it, in exchange for a little help on a History of Magic assignment, and Harry paid for the rest. He debated justifying it to himself, but decided that he was allowed to indulge once in a while, especially considering that was the first time he'd ever bought new clothes that weren't robes.

He left the shop wearing black trousers, a silver turtleneck and a rich forest green crew neck sweater, the remaining packages were going to be delivered by owl that night.

* * *  
After ducking into a store to grab sandwiches to eat on the run, the next step in the Harry makeover was a new pair of glasses. Unlike the tailor, Harry didn't let himself get bullied around, and he quickly settled on a pair of black wire frame glasses that were simple, yet met the approval of the crowd. After a few quick magical measurements that Harry didn't understand, he was assured he could pick them up later that afternoon. They were out of the store within an hour.

* * *  
The last stop was a hair "stylist" that Draco insisted was the best. Unlike his glasses, Harry had no say in what he wanted since "the day he's able to keep his hair neat is the day that Trelawney actually makes more then one accurate prediction." He sat in down in the styling chair, Derrick and Montague rebound his hands (rather needlessly Harry felt, he actually wanted a haircut, despite popular opinion), and let the man do his work.

* * *   
After retrieving the new glasses-and discovering the world to be a much crisper place (for his old lenses had been out of date, and his new ones would adapt as his vision changed), it was decided that now that Harry looked "devastatingly handsome" (Millicent's words) that it was time to celebrate. The gaggle of students headed to the Hog's Head Pub (unlike the Three Broomsticks, the owner didn't want to potentially offend any of a number of powerful families and would willingly serve them mead), and between Harry, Draco and Blaise, the three of them turned many heads. Harry knew that Draco was used to it, and at least it partially accounted for the cocky swagger the blond had. He however, wasn't, and was quite relieved when they slipped into the private room that was kept for larger groups.

Although two hours isn't very much time to get drunk when alternating between rounds of butterbeer and mead, everyone made their best of it-even Harry, who hadn't even had mead before, enjoying the increasingly relaxed atmosphere.

Draco regaled them with tales of Snape and his father-Harry wasn't the only one who turned a little green at the mention of naked Snape being covered in syrup. Millicent and Pansy told of the latest gossip, and who was doing what to whom up in the Astronomy tower (and if any of it could be used for blackmail).

All too soon, the group started walking back to the meeting spot to return to Hogswarts in high spirits and slightly tipsy. Harry and Blaise were walking near each other when Blaise whispered, "You look amazing."

Harry giggled. He was perhaps more drunk then the rest. "Thank you."

"Do you want to go out sometime?"

"You mean, like a date?" Harry asked, feeling rather stupid.

Blaise nodded. "That's exactly what I mean."

Harry looked at Blaise, stunned. Although not completely confident, he was pretty sure that Blaise was in fact a guy. Even more surprising was that the previous thought didn't really bother him. The other thing he was sure of was that Blaise probably actually liked _him_ and not just the Boy Who Lived.

So he did what he didn't think he'd ever do had ever thought of that possibility before that moment.

He said yes.

"Great!" Blaise beamed. "I'll start planning and give you the details later!" 

Draco couldn't believe his ears. "Blaise?" he muttered to no in particular. Grumbling, he continued, "I always knew Potter had no taste."

"What was that, Draco?" asked Crabbe.

"Oh. Nothing."

Like every good henchmen, Crabbe didn't ask any more questions.

* * *  
Sunday morning, Harry carefully dressed himself, making sure not to wreck any of the creases in his new pants (Pansy had spent a good twenty minutes discussing the finer points of how to care for his new clothes), as well as a new top. He checked to make sure his hair was all right, quickly muttering a spell that the stylist had taught him to tame any wild hairs. 

He'd spent a few extra minutes gazing at his reflection that morning, marveling at the difference some clothes and a haircut make. He realized he no longer looked like the Boy Who Lived In a Cupboard, but more like his father. He now looked less like a child who had lived through sheer dumb luck, but more like a young man who knew what he was doing. If he still thought the new clothes were a little itchy, well so be it, he wouldn't want to go back to his old look.

The mirror commented on how vain Harry was being that morning.

"I am not! I just want to show the others how much I appreciated their help is all." he muttered to himself. As an after thought he mentioned that Blaise had nothing to do with this, no matter what anyone said.

"Just keep telling yourself that, kid." His mirror had replied.

Harry decided that it was time to find a non-talking mirror.

* * *  
Breakfast was its normal chatty affair. Crabbe gleefully told him that he'd be spending the afternoon developing the photos. Harry told him that he didn't have to rush, but Crabbe insisted.

"You're too kind." Harry mumbled.

"I can't deny the rest of the House now can I?"

"Oh no. Of course not." Harry agreed, knowing this wasn't an argument that he could win. He was slightly distracted as he was fully aware that he was getting stares-again. Only this time, they weren't the amused stares, but more like the head turning that had happened at Hogsmeade the day before.

Blaise sat down next to Harry, an arm casually touching his shoulder, casual, yet to those who knew how to read the signs a decidedly possessive touch.

"The Ravenclaws think you're hot, Harry. Rumor has it they're going to try and get Hermione to ask you out."

Harry groaned. "Thank Merlin that she wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't be too sure of that." Draco cut in. "You should look at yourself now. Now that we've gotten you into some decent clothes people are suddenly noticing that you're not just a freak with scar."

"That's so helpful, Draco."

"You're welcome."

Harry really hoped that Hermione didn't ask. He liked her all right-but in what he'd assume was more of a sisterly kind of way.

"Oh god."

Blaise looked at Harry quizzically. "What?"

"Ginny."

"What about the youngest weasel?"

Harry gave Draco a tired look.

"I mean, Weasley."

"You all know she's had a crush on me since she got here." Ginny's unrequited love was well known, although her older brothers generally did an admirable job of getting the school to talk about other things. "She might, you know, fall again or try something."

"I wouldn't worry about it." Draco said dryly. He paused, waiting until Lavender Brown was within earshot "Seeing as you're going out with Blaise."

She gasped and Harry glared. "Thanks so much Draco."

"I was just doing you a favor, that's all. I mean considering she's the biggest gossip and all. No one will bother you now." Draco said airily.

Harry stood up, no longer interested in his food. "I have some homework to do. I'll be in the library if anyone needs me. Draco, we'll be sharing our tutoring session with the people I had to give detention to, so please set up on Snape's demonstration counter." He said good bye to the others, and fled the Great Hall, trying to ignore the stares as the words "Harry and BLAISE?!" began to fly around him as he passed the Gryffindor table. 


	6. Awkward Conversations

6. Awkward Conversations  
Although Harry knew he had to go to meetings dealing with Defense, he didn't expect there to be so many. He got there early, poured himself a mug of tea, brushed off a few leaves from an surprisingly comfortable couch made of pine needles, and curled up on it, waiting for the meeting to begin. 

"May I sit here?"

Harry looked up, surprised to see Professor McGonagall staring down at him.

"Of course!" He moved his feet off the couch.

"I wanted to apologize for the behavior of the Gryffindors last week. They had no right to treat you that way. Rest assured they won't do that again."

Harry nodded, almost pleased that the rumors had been true. "Thank you," he said softly.

"I honestly don't know what got into them."

"I do." Harry said listlessly. Although he'd deliberately stopped thinking about Ron and Dean and Seamus, talking about Ginny at breakfast, even as little as they had, made him think about it. He hadn't gotten much studying done.

"Did you want to talk about it?" She sipped from her own mug of mint tea.

Harry shook his head. "No, thank you."

She smiled sympathetically. She knew what was going on in her own House, even if it appeared she didn't have the same kind of loyalty towards it that Snape did. "If you want to talk, my office is always open to you."

"Thank you, Professor." He watched as she left to talk to Professor Vector.

It was nice to that there was at least one Gryffindor who hadn't turned against him.

* * *  
Harry slipped out of the meeting an hour later. While the meeting technically wasn't over yet, Harry had heard all that he needed to, and everyone agreed that it was more important for him to go handle his detentionees. Harry confirmed with Snape that he was allowed the ingredients to make a healing potion, and then left during a five-minute break that had been called to cool off tempers in a surprisingly heated debate over use of funds for new equipment. 

He headed down to the dungeons, to see Draco already there and setting up.

"I want to make a healing potion today. Professor Snape's given me permission to go into his stores for the ingredients."

Draco wasn't used to such a commanding tone from Harry. "It doesn't fit him." Said the voice in his head. He sighed as he watched Harry gather ingredients from the shelves.

"Look. I'm sorry, all right?"

Harry set the ingredients down, startled by this apology. "You know, I could have dealt with people as they came. I didn't want nor need everyone to know that I'm going out with someone that no one knows what his sex really is!"

Draco nodded. "Yeah. I can see how that'd be hard."

"You owe me, Draco."

Draco was surprised, but a little pleased. "All right. One favor, within limits."

"Done."

Just then, five contrite looking students came filing in. Rather, the four Gryffindors looked sheepish, and the rather brash Hufflepuff looked almost sorry, although Harry could tell that was because he wanted to be outside as much as anything else.

Harry had them sit scattered throughout the room: one at each station in the corner, and Justin in the middle.

Draco sat on a stool and watched quietly from behind Snape's desk, curious as to what Harry's plans were.

"I know none of you want to be here, but you made that choice, not me. If you don't want to meet here again next week, all you have to do is behave. Simple enough, eh? I may be young, and you may think I don't know enough to teach you, but believe me, I know a lot more then you think. If you're lucky I'll even share some of that with you." Harry smiled, rather wickedly, almost reminiscent of Draco. "Professor Snape was kind enough to leave me a list of ingredients he needed prepared for the coming week, since I generously volunteered your labor. I'll tell you what he wants done. When you are finished and have cleaned your areas, call me over, and if everything seems good, I'll let you go."

There was a quiet chorus of "Yes, Mr. Potter."

"One last thing, there will be no talking. Mr. Malfoy and I are working on a project and don't want to be disturbed."

The first years nodded, and Harry moved to distribute the various ingredients, most of which had to be either disemboweled, chopped into pieces, or both. He'd deliberately chosen the most disgusting things he could in hopes of discouraging them from ending up in detention again. There was also a good amount of each ingredient there. It would keep them busy for quite a while.

Finally, he was ready to start his own work.

"Nice work, there." Draco said quietly, as he lit the fire under the cauldron.

"You think?"

He nodded. "I don't envy you, but I think you made your point well. Are they paying you well?"

Harry pulled his potions text out and started dicing some frog liver, and smiled. "No comment."

"You're getting something good, aren't you?"

"Quite possibly, but you might as well stop asking because I won't tell."

Draco nodded approvingly. "You're learning."

"Well, I certainly can't trust you with things that shouldn't be shared, now can I?"

Draco winced, and quickly changed the subject to the potion they were making. He didn't want to think about it, even if he knew he'd have to deal with his feelings sooner or later.

* * *  
Harry bumped into Ron late Monday afternoon, forcing Harry to spill the scrolls he'd be carrying that contained the essays that the Gryffindors had written for him.

"Sorry about that." mumbled Ron.

"It's all right. There aren't that many. So…how're you?"

"I'm good."

"Good. So. Have fun at Hogsmeade?" Harry cautiously asked.

Ron shrugged. "It was fine. Would have been better had I gotten to see you."

"I'm sorry about that Ron, the day was much, much, much longer then I thought it would be. I've never seen someone spend so much time shopping! I couldn't escape."

"I heard you guys came back a little tipsy." Ron said accusingly.

Harry shrugged. "We went to the Hog's Head pub. We chatted. We had fun. It was nice. I actually felt like I belonged. Not once in the whole day did I feel like I was under attack from anyone." He amended that thought. "Well, anyone who actually wanted to hurt me."

He really had enjoyed the day all things considered. Crabbe had gotten the photos developed and made up two beautiful albums, one of which read "Making of a Slytherin" (for the House library), the other reading "Harry Potter's Makeover" (for Harry) in an elegant sparkling silver script on green leather. They'd been making the rounds of the table since Sunday dinner. The House copy had been circulating amongst the staff, much to Snape's amusement and Harry's embarrassment. Dumbledore had pulled Harry aside to compliment him on his new look, and mentioned something about being a summer. That had left him rather perplexed, and lent itself to the mounting evidence that indeed; the headmaster was in fact, insane. 

"You're telling me you like them now?"

It took everything in Harry's will power to not throw the scrolls at Ron. "Of course I do. What do you expect, Ron? Since the Sorting, half of Gryffindor hates me, and are intent on making my life a living hell," Harry was sure that Seamus and Dean would come up with something new since the first years were no longer cooperating, "You're jealous because I dropped divination, even though we both know it's a crackpot of a class, and you're upset that I can't find more time to be with you—despite the fact that I have been trying- and that I'm not out right despising Draco. Is it any wonder I turned to my House mates? They actually accept me, all prejudices aside. I like that. I've been a freaking outsider since I came to this school, always the "Boy Who Lived" or the "Boy Who Can Fly." People have turned their backs on me over the smallest issues, and I'm sick of it, and I'm going to be with people who I know won't play those games with me."

Ron took a step back, surprised by Harry's outburst.

"I just. You know. They're Slytherin. We used to hate them, remember?"

Harry nodded. "I did. Then I found out that not all of them were bad, and actually they can be quite nice with some persuasion. Hell, Blaise was nice to me and I didn't even have to hex him!"

"So that's why you're going out him then?"

"Who, Blaise?"

"Yes, of course! What other…male/female/no one knows…person…."

Harry scowled. "Stop that Ron."

"What?"

"Don't insult him."

"So Blaise is a bloke then?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Harry admitted, "but I don't care if he is. He's nice, well, as nice as Slytherins get. He's attractive. It could be fun."

Ron stilled looked dubious.

"What now?"

"What about Ginny? And Hermione? And Parvil?"

"What about them?" 

"They like you."

"And I don't care for Ginny like that, Hermione doesn't like me like that, and I think the Yule Ball kind of ended any chances I had with the Patil sisters."

"Well, what about Cho?"

Harry looked Ron in the eyes, decidedly sick of this conversation. "Drop it, Ron. I'm warning you."

"Are you sure you don't want to try and go out with Cho? You know she likes you…"

"Ron. Drop it."

Ron muttered under something under his breath.

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing Harry, I swear."

Harry believed that as much as he thought Hagrid didn't want a dragon. He suddenly felt unbearably tired. "Thanks a lot, Ron. If you want to trash my feelings any more, please feel free to not find me."

With that, Harry disappeared into the crowd of students moving across the campus.

* * *  
After Harry got back from his date with Blaise, he met Hermione in a semi-private garden that was good to talk in.

He looked around, surprised that Ron was nowhere to be found. Hermione had said that he'd be here, especially with the three of them not getting to spend much time together now that they were separated and Harry so busy.

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked up from the library book of the week. "Hello, Harry. I don't know. He just said 'I can't come' to me during lunch, and then left."

Harry frowned slightly. He was still mildly annoyed at Ron for the way he'd reacted when they'd starting talking about Blaise, but at the same time he missed Ron. Truth was, friendly or not, the Slytherins just weren't as fun loving as the Gryffindors, or at least he didn't find their idea of "fun" to be quite as appealing as a spirited game of Exploding Snap.

"I bet I know why."

"Because of your date with Blaise?"

He nodded.

Hermione bit her lip. "Maybe…"

"I thought you said you didn't know?" he asked, perhaps a bit more accusingly then he would have liked.

"I don't know, Harry, I really don't. It's just…" she trailed off, obviously not sure whether or not to say anymore.

Harry sighed, dropping onto a bench. "Please tell me?"

"Well…he's jealous, Harry."

Harry blinked. He thought Ron was a lot of things right now, but jealous decidedly wasn't one of them. "Jealous? But…he hates Slytherin and everything Slytherin so much!"

She had to agree with him on that point. "Well, yeah, but you haven't even spent a month in your new House and already you have friends. Hogsmeade remember? And these are the same people who were probably trying to curse you dead only months ago."

"Well…maybe…"

"He's upset that you've made as many friends as you've had in a house full of people that have been loved making our lives miserable since our first day, while he hasn't made as many."

Harry look genuinely confused. "Why not? I mean, aside from the whole wishing me dead because I took Cedric's glory thing, Hufflepuffs are good people."

Hermione shrugged. "I don't really know either."

"I still want to be friends with him…" Harry played with a leaf he'd picked up. "He's making it so difficult. It's like, every time I do see him, we fight. I want the old Ron back."

"You're going to have to give him time…"

"If it ever works."

She frowned. "It will. It will."

Harry didn't have her optimism, but hoped she was right.

"How was the date?"

"It was good. Blaise took me to the Slytherin 'club.' It's a room within Hogwarts that only Slytherins that are fifth year and up know about, it's a house secret. He found out about it only last week, and managed to get it just for us. The place is amazing. It's like one of those muggle country clubs you see on the telly. So we had lunch, played a few games. We talked, we laughed. It was fun."

Hermione frowned. "I never knew anything like that existed." 

"And you still don't. Tell anyone and we're both dead."

She nodded. He knew she could keep a secret, and that's the only reason he'd told her where they'd really been. Once the secret room knowledge was safely tucked away in the back of her mind for future research, she turned the topic back to the date.

"Would you go out with him again?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't see why not. It was fun. I didn't fell stressed or pressured or anything. We'll see where it goes."

She nodded, "So! You had some essays you wanted me to look at?"

Harry smiled. "I do. I need to get them though. Meet me in the library in say, fifteen minutes?"

She nodded.

They parted ways, Harry happy to have avoided further questioning for the time being. 

* * *  
The next day during the weekly tutoring session Harry couldn't help but notice that Draco was acting odd. He seemed distant, colder then usual, more like he was when Harry'd still been a Gryffindor. At the same time, when Draco thought that Harry couldn't see him, he was decidedly staring at him.

He hadn't asked how the date with Blaise had gone, not even to make snide comments.

As they cleaned up, Harry flashed a smile during one of Draco's attempted furtive glances. Harry flashed a smile. Draco blushed slightly before putting up his mask of cold indifference.

Harry couldn't help but think that cute.  



	7. Powerful Endings

7. Powerful Endings 

"STUPIFY!" 

The rich baritone of Snape's voice echoed behind Harry. Turning around, wand in hand, a sliver of light marked the raising of Harry's Recurvo spell. If he'd wanted to, he could have watch it deflect harmlessly onto the chalkboard, but this duel was more important. Raising his wand, he yelled "Penetro!" A burst of icy blue power flew from the wand and cut through the wards protecting Snape. Seconds later, Snape fell to the floor as the fully body bind hit him.

As soon as he was released, Snape stood and brushed off his robes. "Not bad Potter. You're getting quicker."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Have you done the research I asked you to?"

Harry nodded. He'd been told to research several Dark Art spells. Madame Pince nearly had a heart attack when she saw him taking the books from the Restricted section.

"And what did you learn?"

"That most of the spells really are for things like injuring, controlling or otherwise not helping other people. However, I found several that could very easily be used for the Light, if only they weren't such powerful magic."

"Why do you think power has anything to do with it?"

"No matter how good a witch or wizard is, there is always a part of us that wants more power, thinking that if we were only a little bit stronger we could do this or that. A lot of these spells I think need a powerful wizard to perform them—powerful and well trained. I admit, I don't get a lot of what's required in these spells, but at any rate because they can't use them, they get upset and so will do what they can to make sure that no one else uses them…like labeling them Dark. Making people afraid of them although there isn't necessarily anything to fear from them. But now that they are Dark, if anyone were to use them in a legitimate fight and someone recognized it…they could get into a lot of trouble."

Snape nodded. "Very good. Nice to see you've learned something about human nature after all these years. But the point is this: just because a spell has a prescribed purpose, doesn't mean that it can't be used in another way. There are quite a few spells that would be considered quite Dark if only wizards had the insights to use them in that way. Undoubtedly you will face Voldemort again in the sometime near future—you've been lucky before, Potter, but now that the protection spell cast by your mother is gone, you'll have to get more creative to save your hide. The shielding spells are a good—but you'll also need to learn to start finding creative uses for the spells that you do know. When we meet next week I want you to list three new uses for the spells you know. One day soon I'll attack you again—and it could be anywhere, and anyplace so long as we are discreet about it."

Harry nodded, not yet worried. He knew that the places where they'd be alone were relatively limited—his office, these meetings, and perhaps if he stayed after his session with Draco. Still, it was decidedly nice of Snape to warn him, he'd have expected no warning. Maybe it was to prevent Harry from casting something too dangerous in the school, he wasn't sure and this wasn't the time to debate it. "I'll try and be prepared, sir."

"Try." Snape snorted amused. "You are prepared or you are dead. Always remember that. Now. Cast your Recurvo and we'll see if you can't cast Impenetrâbilis."

When Harry was finally allowed to return to his dorm, it took all of his concentration just to make it to the room without falling flat on his face. He'd never cast a layered spell before, let alone one this difficult, the two hours he'd spent practicing drained him to the point of exhaustion as he tried to get Recurvo to mesh with the Impenetrâbilis. It was a long and arduous process and the best he'd been able to do was aligning the second spell about halfway in the right position. It wouldn't help him in battle any, but Snape seemed pleased with his progress. 

Snape had assured him with practice he'd get the hang of it, and that the nasty concentration headaches would go away. Harry just hoped he was right.

* * *  
Dumbledore once said to Harry, "What went on down there was a complete secret, so naturally the entire school knows about it." In other words, no secrets were truly sacrosanct, and so it went with Harry's lessons in Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

It started the Thursday after Harry had begun learning the Impenetrâbilis. Appropriately enough, it was even during his regular defense practice. This week they were working on perfecting disarming their opponents. While many of them had seen the spell in use during the short-lived dueling club, the incidents leading to the revelation that Harry was a parselmouth (and the subsequent dissolution of the dueling club) had ended the chance for anyone to actually practice it, effectively making it the first time for his classmates to practice with the spell.

Draco had caught on quickly and could disarm any of his classmates aside from Harry, but for the most part people only had it down to various levels of success. Some got the wand out of their opponent's hands, but were slow enough to cast that they could still be hit in the meantime. Others, like Neville, were so weak with the spell that a person could just keep their grip on it by holding really tight. Harry hadn't seen a spell work like that before—usually a person could cast it, or they couldn't. Until Tuesday he'd never really thought about the person's personal power as a witch or a wizard having an effect before—but here it could be seen as plain as day. 

While idly waiting his turn, Harry wondered if anyone else could figure out what was going on—and what it'd be like if they ever did try to sort themselves out on a basis of power. He thought about Hermione: she was clearly one of the best students at Hogwarts, she'd always had the best grades of her year and that wasn't likely to change anytime soon, but did she have it in her to cast the things Harry knew he'd be learning, or was she just an average witch with a highly above average brain? He wasn't so sure about Ron. Not bad, but never good, like Harry his grades had always been for the most part, average. His older brothers were all smart, but aside from Charlie and maybe Bill none of the others ever felt powerful. He watched as Dean and Blaise faced off with each other. They cast Expelliarmus at the same time and for a second it was almost as if he could see the power flowing from each person. He watched, almost entranced as Blaise emerged victorious, and held up Dean's wand triumphantly, earning Slytherin five points.

"Finnagin. Potter."

Harry tried to shake himself out of his stupor, but he couldn't help but feel that he'd seen something there. It wasn't until her heard the startled cry of Seamus when his own spell ended up hitting him, knocking him back, that Harry realized that he'd thrown up his shield. Seconds later, he held up Seamus' wand, indicating his success.

"Five points to Mr. Potter."

"He cheated!" Harry heard someone complain.

"If by cheating, you mean he used a very valid defensive spell, then yes, he did. You're speed is improving, especially considering your less then attentive state. The rest of you should pray that one day you might be able to build reflexes like his"

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Sir."

"Although this was unplanned, I think it serves as an introduction to our next lesson." He waited for everyone to take a seat. "While disarming is of course, preferable, many times you won't be in a situation where you have a clear shot at your opponent…and others among you aren't strong enough to use Expelliarmus , so you must turn to defense. The spell you saw is the same one I used the first night against Mr. Potter. It's called Recurvo, a reflecting charm and it will work against almost any spell…"

* * *  
As the class let out for the evening, Snape called for Harry to stay after.

"Did I not mention that you were to keep the things from our other session a secret from the others, Mister Potter?"

"I'm sorry sir. It just happened."

Snape snorted. "Thankfully it wasn't anything too damning. You're still going to have to explain to your year mates how you learned that. I'll leave it to you. Just be more careful next time."

Harry nodded, "I will. Can I ask you a question?"

"Since you will anyway, you may."

"I was watching class tonight, and I was thinking about Expelliarmus and how when some cast them, like Draco, the spell is quite strong and he could disarm anyone else in our class. Yet when Neville tried to cast it, he barely got anywhere. Is that the result of each persons talent?"

Snape gave him an appraising look. "I take it this is why you were so distracted tonight?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I should have admonished you for not paying attention, so you may write for me a five foot essay on a wizard's power and its effect on spells, due two weeks from today. We'll discuss it then. And knowing your foolishness, you are not to practice Impenetrâbilis until after the match on Saturday. Slytherin hasn't lost to Hufflepuff in years and I don't want us to start now because you've got too much a headache to concentrate properly."

Harry nodded. 

"Dismissed."

Harry retreated to the dorm for the night to the curious expressions on his classmate's faces.

As Harry entered the common room, Draco's head popped up from the couch that he was sprawling on. "Where'd you learn that spell?"

"Oh. You know. To protect myself in case any of my first years try to act up again."

"You're a horrible liar, Harry." Draco said calmly.

"Well. Maybe. But I'm still not telling. It's none of your business."

"But Harry! We're your friends! Crabbe bought you clothes! And I help you with potions! Blaise is even so kind as to take you out!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You've got your secrets. I have mine."

Draco, although not satisfied by that answer, knew that he wasn't going to get a response out of Harry and let the subject drop. 

* * *  
Saturday morning dawned with a beautiful cloud-dotted sky. As Harry walked out to the pitch he took a deep breath of the fresh air, excited about the game. He felt great; last night's faux match helped to solidify his confidence in his teammates and he was ready to play.

Everyone was in a cheery mood as the stands filled. Gryffindor showed its customary flags of support for Hufflepuff, Harry ignored the "Chase Potter off the Pitch, Ron" sign that he saw there, if for no other reason than the sign mysteriously ignited seconds after he pointed it out. Ravenclaw was throwing in its support for Slytherin, also as per the tradition. Harry was pleased to see that Hermione had decided to come to the match after all. He'd been worried that she wouldn't show at all because of torn loyalty to the two feuding friends. 

As he flew onto the pitch for the opening, he heard Lee Jordan's voice over the loudspeaker.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls welcome to the first Quidditch match of the year! This promises to be an exciting game as it pits the Slytherins, lead by their new Seeker Harry Potter, against Hufflepuff and their new Chaser Ron Weasley for the first time! Now that Potter is in a new House will he play as underhanded as the rest of Slytherin or will he keep his honor?"

Boos from the Slytherin stands muffled the cries from Lee as McGonagall kicked him out of the announcing booth. 

Madame Hooch walked onto the field, dropping the securely closed chest onto the field.

"I want a nice clean match ladies and gentlemen, and may the best team win!" She quickly released the antsy balls and made her way off the field.

Harry didn't pay the announcing any mind, except for the fact that insults to House honor aside, Lee Jordan really was the more interesting commentator. 

Keeping his eye out for the Snitch, he finally spied it on the far end of the field, near the Slytherin goals. The other Seeker must have spotted it as well because out of the corner of his eye he could see her starting to race for it. Luck was in Harry's favor because it was closer to him, and his broom was much faster then hers. He was a hand's width away from the Snitch when he was suddenly broad sided, sending him—and the Snitch--spinning out of control. Boos and cries of foul filled the air from not only the Slytherin stands, but the Ravenclaws as well, and a few scattered Gryffindors, much to Harry's surprise.

A sharp whistle blow signaled that a penalty was to be assessed. Harry took a glance over at his assailant once he had stabilized himself, wincing at the sharp ache in his side.

Ron.

Ron, who at the moment was not looking very apologetic for his actions: if anything he seemed more upset that his Seeker hadn't been able to grab the Snitch during the disruption he caused.

"Harry, are you all right to continue?" Asked a concerned Madame Hooch. 

A flash of fiery determination filled his eyes. "I can finish the match."

She looked at him hesitantly, announced that Slytherin would get a penalty shot (and Slytherin scored widening the lead to 90-30), then play resumed. This time he spotted the Snitch much faster, and easily beat the Hufflepuff Seeker by several meters.

It was as Draco and Blaise helped Harry hobble to the infirmary that they ran across Ron.

"Nice job Weasel." Blaise snarled.

"Yeah, who'd thought you'd sneak so low? I mean, all the tricks we've played and we've never deliberately rammed into him before." Added Draco, equally disdained at the redheads appearance.

"Harry. I just wanted to explain…"

Harry didn't look at Ron, just stared straight ahead as they marched on. He heard Ron call his name, but he couldn't bring himself to look back. 

Ron had made his decision for him. How could he remain friends with someone deliberately trying to hurt him?

* * *  
It didn't take long for Madame Pomfrey to patch Harry back up again. Nothing was actually broken, although he had large bruises where the broom had hit his thigh. Even after she'd given him a clean bill of health, he still felt numb physically and emotionally, the jolt of realizing who'd hit him replaying in his mind.

The three boys walked back to the tower slowly, Harry wasn't much in the mood to celebrate and no matter what House you were in, when you won a match, you partied.

"Are you going to be okay, Harry?" asked Blaise.

"Yeah. I guess."

"Upset at Weasel?"

Harry didn't bother to correct Draco, and he was sorely tempted to call Ron that himself.  
"You could say that. I just can't believe he'd do that to me! I mean, I know Hufflepuff doesn't win that often, but to hurt me like that?" Harry didn't really know what else to say, nor did the others have any good answers.

When they finally reached their common room, Harry smiled and laughed and did all the celebratory things that a winning Seeker was expected to do. But if you looked in his eyes you could see his anger and his sorrow.

No one said anything though, because no one knew how to handle it.  
* * *  
The next morning, Harry was feeling better, and was actually involved in an animated debate about legitimate uses of some Dark spells, when the morning owls arrived. Just as Harry was about to make his next claim, a sharp woman's voice started yelling from the general vicinity of the Hufflepuff table.

"RONALD WEASLEY!

HOW DARE YOU ATTACK HARRY LIKE THAT ON THE QUIDDITCH PITCH! YOUR FATHER AND I ARE SO ASHAMED OF YOUR BEHAVIOR! WE TAUGHT YOU BETTER THEN THAT! CHARLIE WOULD BE MORITIFED IF HE KNEW WHAT YOU DID! I DON'T CARE THAT HARRY'S IN SLYTHERIN, YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER! NOW MARCH RIGHT OVER TO HIM AND APOLOGIZE! NOW!"

People started snickering all over the Great Hall, especially the Slytherins who were outright laughing. Draco yelled over, "Come on Weasley! We haven't got all day!" 

Ron was bright red, whether in anger or embarrassment Harry didn't know, nor did he actually care. He was just kind of amazed that Molly was still sticking up for him. Of course, she would have yelled at Ron anyway no matter who he'd had run into, but still. He'd have to write to her after breakfast.

Ron eventually walked over to Harry, knowing the twins would rat him out if he said nothing.

Harry looked at him calmly, his face not really giving anything away.

"I'm sorry." Ron mumbled.

"What was that, Weasel? I don't think Harry heard you." 

Ron glared at Draco, but in a clearer, louder voice he repeated, "I'm sorry." It still didn't sound all that apologetic; however Ron left and returned to his seat.

Blaise observed dryly, "That went well."

Harry looked at Blaise. "I have a few letters to write, but after I'm done want to go walk around the lake for a bit?"

Blaise nodded. "Sure."

Harry rose from the table. "I'll meet you in the common room in say, an hour?"

"Sounds good."

As Harry left the table, Dumbledore caught his eye and gave him the "everything for a reason" smile. Harry was really starting to hate that smile.


	8. Transitions

8. Transitions 

Snuffles,

I know you requested contact to be kept as small as possible, yet I don't really know who I could write to so I hope you don't mind too badly.

I think my friendship with Ron is over now. During our Quidditch match yesterday he purposely ran into me with his broom to keep me from getting the Snitch. It didn't work since Madame Hooch called the penalty just a second after he got away from me. Ron's mum wasn't too happy with that, Ron got a Howler today about it.

I just don't get why he did it, Snuffles. Even the excuse of Ron wanting his House to win seems kind of thin. It's like he's completely changed since we got Re-Sorted. I've tried giving him a chance but it just seems to keep getting worse. I don't feel like I want to try anymore. I guess that's it then. It's bad because he was my first true friend, but how could a friend treat me like he has?

All the DADA stuff is going well, I'm working on learning Impenetrâbilis and I'm slowly getting there. Concentration headaches hurt like mad though, but they don't seem so bad each time I practice a little more. Are all layered spells that hard? I have to write an essay on power in witches and wizards and the effects it has on spells for Snape. I'm not really sure how to go about doing it, although I haven't had time to go to the library yet. I'll probably go tomorrow (Monday) and start looking.

I haven't had a chance to tell you before, so I guess is now a good time as any…I think I might be gay. I've been seeing Blaise since the first Hogsmeade weekend. We're taking things slow…and yeah. 

I'm due to meet Blaise for a walk around the lake in a little bit. I'm feeling a bit lost about him, actually. I still like him, but now I'm finding myself starting to like Draco, but even more then the way I like Blaise. I don't know what to think of that. I think he may like me too, but the whole thing is too weird for me to think about so I'm not.

I know I'm ending this letter abruptly, but I've got to get going if I'm going to meet Blaise on time. 

Take care,  
Harry

PS. I bet you wouldn't recognize me now. The Hogsmeade trip resulted in a whole new wardrobe, new glasses and a haircut. I apparently now look "smashing" and girls drool over me, or at least so I'm told. At least it's not too blatant since Draco deliberately let Lavender Brown overhear that I was seeing Blaise, but I know people are still looking. Did that ever happen to you? What did you do about it?

Harry rolled up the scroll, tied it to Hedwig, gave her a treat and let her go on her way, nervously biting his lip as she flew out of site, hoping that his godfather would be okay with his news.

* * *  
It was calm day, and the lake was flat, except from the occasional ripples of water caused by the giant squid swimming by. Harry had grabbed a few pastries from the house elves and the two of them sat on the shore. It was a comfortable silence, at least until the pastries had disappeared.

"Want to talk about Ron?" Blaise ventured.

Harry picked up a rock near him and skipped it out onto the lake. "I guess so. Just don't know what to say, really."

"You're hurt because you can't be sure that the foolish attack on you during the game was strictly for in-game reasons."

Harry nodded.

"I played pick up games in his backyard this summer. He'd never done anything like that before. I don't even think he fouled anyone. Now…he's been acting odd since I was placed here. I guess I was right in not telling him that the hat originally wanted me in Slytherin."

Blaise looked surprised. "You never told him?"

Harry shook his head. "The only person I ever told before that first night was Dumbledore."

"You didn't trust him?"

Harry shrugged. "Why did he have to know? I know that he's always had a prejudice against the House so why admit it? It's not like any of us knew that this was going to happen. And, I wanted to deny it."

"Deny it?"

"I didn't find out I was a wizard until I turned 11. Hagrid told me about it and warned me about how all the Dark Wizards came from Slytherin and stuff like that. I met Draco in Diagon Alley soon after and his arrogant tone in offering his powerful friendship or something like that didn't help my opinion any. Then when we got sorted that first night. I begged not to be put in here, and after making really, really sure that I didn't want to be a Slytherin it placed me in Gryffindor. So. You know. Not exactly proud of that moment now."

Blaise nodded without commenting.

Harry finally asked, "Were you told that you were going to be in Slytherin by your parents?"

"Not really. My family's had some relatives in here, but just as many, if not more, in Ravenclaw. My father hoped Slytherin so I could make friends with…" He paused, knowing that Harry still wasn't overly enamored of the connections most of the House had with the Death Eaters. Those conversations were always held outside of Harry's hearing. No one tried to bring him to the Death Eaters, and Harry didn't stop them from discussing it. It was an uneasy truce at best, and would always be a wedge between him and the others.

"Yeah." Harry knew full well what Blaise was talking about. "But anyway, yes, I never told Ron. Guess I made the right choice. I doubt he would've been my friend if I'd told him that."

"Some friend he turned out to be."

Harry pulled up his arms around his knees. "He was a good friend. He was also one of the first true friends I ever had. When I went to school with Dudley, I was more often the moving target. Luckily I run fast. So. Losing Ron…I feel alone. I mean, you and the others are great, but it's not the same, because you know."

Blaise nodded, edging closer to Harry. The kiss was soft, tentative. Harry's eyes widened in surprise as he felt Blaise's lips upon his; it was over before he was fully aware of what happened.

Harry colored slightly, and looked at the lake in between glances at Blaise. He smiled at Blaise. He'd liked the kiss, but did he like Blaise enough that way?

They spent the rest of the time sitting in mostly comfortable silence.

* * *  
"There you are," Draco commented as Harry walked into the potions classroom. "I was wondering where you were. I guess we have no first year brats joining us this week?"

It took a few seconds for Harry to shoot Draco a glance. "They aren't all brats."

"Those Gryffindors were."

He nodded absently, "They were. Not anymore."

Draco took a long look at Harry. "Something happen?"

Harry shrugged. "Sort of. Not really."

Draco opened some notes. "Well, it did or it didn't. You can't have it both ways." He paused. "It's about you and Blaise, isn't it." A second later, "I know it is, that's got to be it!"

Harry gave him a look.

"Well, you were fine before you went on that walk with him earlier."

"And I'm still fine."

"No you aren't."

"How would you know?"

Draco puffed up, looking more self-important than normal. "I know these things…besides, if you won't tell me I'll go ask Blaise."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Bastard."

"I'm so wounded."

Harry sighed. Draco could be almost as insufferable as Ron or Hermione when it came to not sharing information that he felt he had a right to know. "All right. Wekindofkissed."

Draco's face drew tight before a forced smile appeared on it. "Really now. I'm sure Blaise is a great kisser."

"No snide remarks?"

"Why should I make one? I mean. It happens. I'm sure you enjoyed it and all that."

"You feeling all right, Draco?"

"Yes, of course. Now, we have that exam coming up, and Snape let me know that we're going to make a shrinking potion, and he told me to make sure that you wouldn't mess it up."

Harry was definitely confused now. Slytherins were decidedly odd people.

* * *  
When Harry entered the DADA classroom Tuesday night, the first thing Harry noticed was that Dumbledore was chatting with Snape.

"Ah, hello, Harry."

"Good evening, Sir. Are you watching the lesson tonight?" He couldn't ever recall a time when Dumbledore had checked in on any of his lessons in the past four years.

"I am Mr. Potter, as soon as Professor Snape here finishes the preparations."

Harry tilted his head. "Preparations, sir?"

"We'll be working with a few spells tonight where I thought it might be best if I had some help if something were to happen."

That didn't help Harry much. "What kind of preparations?"

Snape started muttering s spell, as Dumbledore explained. "The walls of this room have a minimal amount of shielding on them, so if a curse or a hex goes awry, the wall absorb the spell so it doesn't 'bounce,' so to speak. He is reinforcing those spells just in case, as well as casting a spell to dampen sound so others outside can't hear what is going on in here. Now, please lock the door would you? We don't want any peeping toms interrupting our work here."

"Yes, sir." Harry went and shut the door. The lock clicked into place, and Harry turned ready to work.

He wasn't prepared to see Snape's wand pointed at him, while he calmly uttered, "Crucio!"

Harry got the Recurvo up, but as he struggled with the Impenetrâbilis the curse hit him full force. Knees buckling, he fell to the ground screaming as it felt like every bone in his body broke simultaneously, every nerve throbbing in pain. He felt Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder and Harry shivered under the touch.

"Are you all right?" He draped a blanket over Harry's shoulders, and guided Harry to a padded chair, before giving him a draught to numb some of the pain.

"I'll. I'll be fine." 

"You did quite well, Mr. Potter." Snape commented.

Bitterly, Harry replied, "I still got hit."

"You did."

"But you were also in the midst of casting Impenetrâbilis and from what Professor Snape told me, your shielding appears to be further along then you were last week. You are learning this at astonishing speeds, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded, pleased by the comment from Dumbledore, but still irked that he got hit in the first place. "Why not wait until I'd learned it?"

"Lord Voldemort would not be so courteous, so why should I? I can't test you with anything else: Avada Kevadara for obvious reasons, and you can cast off the Imperious. Plus, I'm sure that this will serve as great incentive to keep working on it when you can. The sooner you learn this spell, the safer you'll be."

Harry nodded. Snape did have a point, even if he disagreed about the incentive value of the Cruciatus curse. 

Dumbledore changed the subject, slightly. "I think you'll find the Impenetrâbilis easier to cast if you relax, Harry. You're trying to force it on top of Recurvo and you'll never get it cast that way." He paused. "It's been so long since I've learned that spell that it's hard to remember what my mentor told me. Ah, well, it'll come to me in my sleep I suppose. Just keep practicing and I'm sure you'll get it, Harry." He turned to Snape, "I presume I'm no longer needed this evening?"

Snape nodded. "Thank you, Headmaster for your time tonight."

He nodded. "It's not a problem. When Harry is ready to be tested again, do let me know."

"I will."

Dumbledore nodded. "Goodnight to you, gentlemen." He left.

Snape looked at Harry. "You will be tested again sometime soon, I wish for you to continue practicing in whatever free time you can find. Are the headaches still problematic?"

"A little, sir."

"Remind me tomorrow and I'll give you something to remedy that."

Harry nodded.

"Since you seem to be progressing quite well on your own, I thought tonight that we might start discussing some of the Dark spells that we'll be begin to cover next week, but before we start, I have a very important question to ask of you. Would you be willing to learn the Unforgivable Curses?"

Harry frowned, "Why would I want to do that. I have no plan to ever actually use them, or to end up in Azkaban, for that matter."

"You have no plans to, but that does not mean you'll never have a need to. One day, out on the battlefield, an Avada Kevadara just might save your life. You don't need to tell me today, but I need an answer by the end of the week so that I may make suitable preparations for a practice room."

Harry bit his lip, "Yes, sir."

Snape took a good look at Harry, and sighed. "You are in no shape to cast tonight and I will not have you injuring either one of us because you're too fatigued to cast properly. Return to the dormitory and go straight to bed. Rest assured I would find out if you disobeyed."

Harry bowed slightly. "Yes, Professor." He hadn't been planning on doing any homework anyway; his body still ached all over

Harry left the classroom, ignoring the whispers of the few students still out, trying to avoid starting any conversations as he returned to Slytherin. As luck would have it, Harry heard his named called out, to find Hermione at a brisk pace to catch up with him.

"Hello, Hermione." He hoped the greeting sounded better aloud, then it did in his head.

"Harry! What happened to you? You look awful! You should go to the infirmary right away!"

"I'll be all right, Hermione, promise. Just practicing some Defense things."

"Like what? I don't know what Snape is teaching you but it can't be that bad, and besides your class isn't until Thursday!" Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had their classes the day before. While ideally, the students were supposed to be learning the same things, in reality the two courses had very different focuses. Flitwick was much more concerned about defense, while Snape leaned toward offense. This class was the only time in recent Hogwarts history that anyone (who wasn't in Slytherin) recalled actually wanting to be in a class of Snape's.

"I can't really tell you right now, Hermione. It's not that I don't want to, but Professor Snape has ordered me to bed and I wouldn't want to have even more work to do because I didn't follow his instructions."

"Are you sure you're feeling all right? I mean, you're actually concerned about following the rules for once."

Harry made a face. "Funny, Hermione."

"Well, I'll just walk you to your dorm then and you can tell me on your way."

Damn. 

"No, no, it's all right. It's almost curfew anyway, I wouldn't want you to lose points for being out past it."

Hermione sighed. "Honestly, Harry, when did I become not trustworthy?"

"It's not that, I promise! I'm just…I can't." He sighed, conceding defeat. "Next time our free periods match, we'll talk, all right?"

They stopped at the point where their paths diverged. "All right, Harry. Feel better."

He made his escape and true to his word, as soon as he reached the Slytherin dungeons, he went straight for his room..

"You look like shit, Harry." Draco stated bluntly as he entered. Crabbe nodded in agreement. What a surprise.

"You have such a way with words," commented Blaise.

"Thanks for telling me something I didn't know, Draco." Harry muttered.

"What did Snape do to you tonight?" Blaise asked, concerned. 

Harry still didn't have a good answer for them, so he didn't say anything at all, instead opting to change into his nightclothes. "As much as I'd love to not talk about this, I was ordered to go straight to bed, and quite honestly I need the sleep." He yawned as if to make the point why even clearer. 

Sleep came to him moments later, amidst hushed whispers about what Snape and Harry were up to.

* * *  
The next day, during his free period, Hermione found him in the Great Hall where he was working on the essay about a wizard's power and it's effect on certain spells. She flipped one of the many open books cover up so she could see it's title.

She read the black lettering slowly, Power and the Dark Arts: Why Squibs Can't Cast Avada Kevdara. Another book read Power Boosting for Layered Spells. A third book read: Squibs, A Treatise on the Near Powerless. "Interesting essay you're working on. Whose it for?"

Harry looked up after finishing his sentence. "It's for Professor Snape. I asked him about power last week after DADA and he assigned me an essay on the subject."

"That wasn't very nice of him," she observed.

Harry shrugged. "This is Snape after all. And I disrupted the last DADA lesson so this was my punishment."

"Serves you right, then. You know better then to interrupt one of his classes."

Harry just rolled his eyes. Four years still hadn't broken Hermione of the rather annoying lectures she gave on behaving in class; even if she herself was more willing to break rules when it served her purpose.

She sat down beside him at the table. A few Slytherins gave her looks, but neither Harry nor Hermione paid them any mind. Her voice lowered. "So, what happened to you last night?"

With this many people around there was no way he'd admit to Snape using the Cruciatus curse. He was still hesitant to tell Hermione. If he told her, there was a good chance Ron would find out, and it'd be all over. There's no way that Mrs. Weasley would stand for Harry getting attacked with Unforgivable Curses.

His voice was equally low. "I'm taking some advanced DADA lessons in exchange for teaching DADA to the first years. We were practicing with some more powerful curses and those things hurt like mad."

"You're learning advanced defense?" Her eyes clearly showed jealousy at not being able to take those lessons. "Lucky you. Are the other student teachers doing it as well?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure what else they got in exchange. Snape and Dumbledore figured it'd be good for me to learn this stuff. Save my life and all."

She nodded. "Just be careful, would you? And if Professor Snape gets out of hand, tell Dumbledore. He'll put a stop to it."

Harry nodded. "Of course."

"I'll let you get back to your essay. If you need any help…"

Harry smiled. "I know where to find you."

* * *  
After that conversation with Hermione, Harry began to lose track of time. Things were finally settling into a semi-normal routine. Homework loads got heavier and injured first years became more common as they started practicing curses and bad control and aim turned almost harmless curses into something slightly more painful. The Quidditch season was in full swing as Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw beat Hufflepuff, and after a particularly long game, Slytherin beat Gryffindor. 

Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts was still proving to be Harry's most interesting class. Although it took getting hit by Cruciatus one more time before he finally got Impenetrâbilis to work properly, Harry was now untouchable during regular defense lessons. His casting time on the full spell still left much to be desired but he could now do Recurvo in a heartbeat. 

He'd finally consented to learning the Unforgivable Curses because he had recognized the logic in Snape's argument. So now, interwoven with lessons about Dark curses, he'd begun to learn Cruciatus, but it'd still be a long time before he'd be able to cast it. The magic behind the three curses was layered and complex; he now understood why "Moody" had said that all the students could try and cast the Killing Curse and he might only get a nosebleed. In order to understand it all, Snape had given him a stack of books to read up on. He'd tried hiding the books at first, but gave that up quickly enough after he'd forgotten to put Curse Your Enemies, Live Another Day back into his pack, instead leaving it on the table in the Slytherin common room. To his surprise, the discovery that he was learning Dark curses was a non-event. A few people shrugged. Others congratulated him for seeing the power of Dark Arts. Ever practical, Draco had asked to borrow the book because he'd misplaced his own copy.


	9. Whose Date is it Anyway?

9. Whose Date is it Anyway?  
As December approached, the topic of conversation was the Yule Ball. Dumbledore had surprised them all when he announced that to keep spirits up they'd be having a ball again this year. 

Harry hoped that he wouldn't get asked so he could quietly spend the night in the room or anything else that didn't involve dancing, really. Naturally, only minutes after he'd had this thought Blaise had asked him, and Harry couldn't say no to him. He consoled himself by saying

To the surprise of many, and disappointment of a few like Pansy, Draco announced at lunch that day that he was going stag. He had on his "I've got something up my sleeve" face ; and it almost distressed Harry to realize that he actually recognized the incredibly subtle differences between that and his everyday "I am God bow down to me" face.

It was about a week later during History of magic that Harry began to panic as he remembered that his dress robes from the year before had been burned (along with anything that hadn't been on his body that day) and that meant he'd have to go clothes shopping.

He offered a silent prayer to Merlin that he'd be allowed to go to robe shop alone.

* * *  
Fortune was in his favor, and he managed to sneak off by himself, under the guise of shopping for Christmas presents. With the age of the young witch in charge, Harry selected robes of the same deep forest green that his current favorite sweater was in, and were more form fitting then the robes he'd last owned. He'd been assured that the outfit was at the height of style; after studying the current fashion catalogs he'd agreed. The witch promised to have the alterations finished by afternoon's end, leaving him with the now considerable task of actually buying presents.

Hermione would be easy enough—she'd shown him a wish list of books a month ago in a not subtle hint, not that he minded. Usually, she was hard to shop for, and Harry never wanted to resort to Ron's traditional strategy of giving candy to everyone. He didn't think he'd get Ron anything, they hadn't really spoken since the Quidditch match; and wasn't expecting anything in return. He did get a card for Mrs. Weasley though because she'd always been so supportive.

The Slytherins were proving to be a problem when it came to presents. Harry'd finally decided on a Dark Art book that he'd seen Draco practically drooling over. In exchange for agreeing to rebottle some of the more volatile Potion ingredients that Snape kept, Snape agreed to use his contacts in Knockturn Alley to procure it. Snape at first had been surprised by the request, but then almost pleased, and had agreed to the deal readily enough.

Blaise was harder. While his dad was a Death Eater, Blaise surprisingly showed little interest in becoming one himself. He did well in school, yet wasn't overly fascinated by anything he was taught. Harry's aimless wandering finally took him into a gift shop. In the muggle world, it would have been filled with useless trinkets and way-overly scented candles. This store seemed more practical. All the knick-knacks seemed to be enchanted in one way or another. Wards against garden gnomes, wards against kids trying to steal from the cookie jar. He picks up what appeared to be a simple lock.

Harry read the tag. "Lock for Good. Put me on things you want your nosy siblings, friends and roommates to stay out of. Great for libraries, wine cellars and wardrobes."

"It's like a locking spell, only it can't be opened by magic. You have to have the key." The storeowner, an elderly witch said, noting his interest. 

Blaise was always complaining about Draco borrowing his clothes. This would be perfect. He checked the tag. 5 galleons. Not bad at all, Harry thought. It was a good token, but not any more then he'd spent on Hermione or Draco. As he went to pay, he noticed a bin of holiday-themed socks. His face split into a wide grin as he imagined the look on his housemates faces as they opened the package. He found a pair of reindeer for Blaise, a jolly Santa was smiling on the pair for Draco, and he even got Crabbe a Christmas tree laden with gifts to go along with a box of sweets he knew that Crabbe enjoyed. He even found a mismatched pair of unevenly dyed socks for Doby. He also planned on buying a skein of yarn so the house elf could make some himself.

All told, the day of shopping had gone quite well, and it was with good spirits that Harry returned to Hogwarts.

* * *  
Now that winter was in full session, Dumbledore had changed the Staff Room from the forest motif, to something that reminded Harry of a muggle ski lodge. The walls looked like they were from a log cabin. Over stuffed couches littered the room, and a wizard's chessboard was tucked neatly away in the corner. The downside of this arrangement was a lack of any actual tables aside from a few scattered end tables. Idly noting that this arrangement wasn't very helpful, Harry set down his mug of hot chocolate and arranged for one of his books to serve as a lap desk, setting a piece of parchment on top in case he needed to take notes.

"Hey Harry."

He looked up to see Cho smiling at him.

"Have a seat?" he offered. 

She sat down aside him, holding a mug of tea and a Quick-Quotes Quill. Unlike the one Rita had been using, this one was actually accurate.

"How're you?"

"Trying to not go insane with the essay grading."

She smiled at him. "It's not that bad."

"I suppose it could be worse. Professor Snape gave me a "Now you have the faintest sliver of a notion of how horrible it is to have to teach for a living" speech."

"In other words you complained to him, and he didn't have the slightest ounce of sympathy for your pain."

"Something like that." Harry grinned ruefully.

Dumbledore stood up at that moment. "All right everybody, let's begin."

The last few teachers standing took their seats and all looked up expectedly at the headmaster.

"Plans for the Yule Ball are in full swing. Please remind your students to sign up to stay for the holiday intersession, and that the dress code will be enforced. Since dress robes are not a standard part of the third years required belongings, remind them to ask their parents to send them some."

Harry was rather thankful he'd been allowed to go to Hogsmeade. Even if before he didn't appreciate clothing (and to a certain extent was still learning to appreciate it), at least he'd gotten to pick out the style he wanted. He forced himself not to shudder at the thought of Ron's antiquated hand-me-down robes. 

"Now! Winter exams are coming upon us. Please remember that after examinations I'll require reports about who seems to be excelling in the subject, and who needs a little extra help so if need be we can set up tutoring sessions. As for our student teachers, I'd like you to know that while you will not be required to do any formal grading of your students that you are required to come up with similar lists for me, so that when we are finally able to find a suitable DADA professor in the times to come we have an adequate record of who stands where, as well as what's reasonable for them to know."

Harry groaned inwardly. This wasn't really news to him, but he'd conveniently blocked it out. As the meeting turned towards something about budgets, food for Hagrid's animals and the new disappearing steps on the staircase leading to the fifth floor, he jotted down notes on what he could test. If he was going to be bored, at least he could be productive.

* * *  
"Nice stain, Harry." Draco commented as Harry walked into the potions classroom, fresh from the meeting.

Harry looked down on his shirt, where a dark brown spot resided just a little off center. "Why thank you. I'm thinking of starting a new trend. Makes meetings more interesting at least."

Draco smirked. "You should hear my father blab on and on about Death Eater meetings. It's always 'take over this' and 'get the Dark Lord that' and ' that Damn Harry Potter brat.'"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Has Voldemort ever gone, 'I would have succeeded if it wasn't for that meddling Potter!'"

Draco looked at him funny. "Why on earth would he do that, that's stupid."

Harry shook his head. "Muggle tv show. The villain of the episode always complained about the heroes after they'd been defeated."

Draco was getting ready to make another remark about just how mad Harry was, when two students, a Gryffindor and, to Draco's surprise, a Slytherin came in for detention.

At Draco's stare, Harry shrugged. "Couldn't let him goof off, could I? Besides, I didn't take away any points. Snape'd give me detention for weeks if I did that." He quickly set the two students to work, before turning his attention back to Draco.

"So you never did tell me why you aren't taking anyone to the Yule Ball, you know," Harry commented casually as a fear-reducing potion that Draco was helping Harry with simmered away.

Draco stiffened. "That's none of your business. I'm a Malfoy. I don't have to explain it if I don't want to."

Harry ignored the brush off; knowing the sudden return of the "I'm better then you" attitude meant that Draco was trying to hide something. "I know you had lots of offers. I heard many of them."

"So what if I did. Doesn't mean that I like any of them enough to go with them."

Harry stirred the potion, and took a glance at his detentionees who were diligently working. "I don't believe that. I wonder…"

"Wonder what?" Draco said, slightly irritated.

"Is the person you wanted to take going with someone else?"

"No! Why would you say that?"

"You were quite hasty with your decision to go alone, weren't you? I mean, there's still another two weeks left until the ball. Plenty of time to find a partner if you wanted one."

"Who says I even wanted a partner in the first place?" Draco tried to maintain his aloof attitude, but Harry could see right through it. 

Harry grinned. "You're a Malfoy. You crave the attention of a grand entrance and everyone staring at your oh-so-handsome face and the perfect date on your arm that only emphasizes how you can get anyone in school you want.." He waved his hand about dramatically.

"I do not!"

"You do too!" Harry pressed his attack, wanting to know who had caught Malfoy's eye. "So, who is it? Is it a bloke?" Harry tried to maintain an indifferent tone in his voice, even as he bit his lip waiting for an answer, his eyes darting between the simmering potion and Draco, part of him wondering if it was him that Draco wanted. It'd at least explain Draco's recent odd behavior.

Draco sighed. Harry watched as Draco's face tightened in annoyance at having to answer the question. "Yes."

Harry looked slightly pleased by that; there were very few same sex couples. Process of elimination would work in his favor.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Why are you so happy. You're dating Blaise."

"We haven't dated that much. Just a few times really. I mean, we haven't even gone to Hogsmeade alone."

"You looked relatively serious in the Great Hall on Friday when Blaise practically jumped you."

Harry blushed. Blaise had caught him by surprise; he was in an extra good mood because he'd aced a pop quiz by Flitwick. Charms had always given Blaise trouble. "Well, he caught me off guard." It was true. After an enthusiastic hug (for a Slytherin) and a rather enthusiastic kiss, Harry had pushed Blaise off, laughing at the commotion they were causing.

"You didn't seem to mind much." Draco almost sounded bitter, Harry noted.

"He was so happy how could I not enjoy it? He is a good kisser but…" Harry trailed off, noting that interested looks of the first years. Irritated, he ordered them to write a short essay due a week from today and had them leave.

"A good kisser but what?" Draco was decidedly intrigued, having totally forgotten about the first years.

"I don't know. It's just missing something. We enjoy each others company, but I don't think that's its really going to anywhere." What was really missing was the comfort level that he and Draco had, where they could exchange insults and keep each other on their toes. Blaise was almost too nice by comparison.

Harry looked at Draco intently as Draco smiled to himself, pleased by something. Harry shook his head and turned his attention back to the nearly completed potion. 

* * *  
The last two weeks before the ball passed by quickly. The joyful mood permeated the castle and not even end of term exams could put a damper on their spirits. 

The night before the dance, the Slytherin common room was a buzz with rumors as a chalkboard magically updated the odds on what Draco was up to; for someone going to the dance alone, he'd been spending meticulous amounts of time making sure his hair was the right length, and laying out his dress robe to get pressed and shoes to be polished by the house elves. He was also unusually cheery and smiling at everyone, even Gryffindors. They took it as a sign that one of them was in mortal danger, and had taken to traveling in tight packs, much to Draco's obliviousness, and everyone else's humor.

Harry knew that Draco must be planning on going after whomever it was that he had his eye on. A voice in his head told him that he was Draco's intended target. Of course, this was the same voice that told him not to break the rules, so he quickly tucked the notion away in the back of his mind; though the thought of dating Draco wasn't necessarily a bad one, the events leading up to that point were sure to be messy, and things not to be dwelled upon.

* * *  
Harry met Blaise in the common room, after Blaise insisted on changing in sixth year dorms. Harry swallowed as he saw Blaise come down the stairs. Like Harry, he'd gotten new robes, only his were a rich sapphire blue. "Wow. You look good."

"Thank you." Blaise took in the sight of Harry, and finally said, "You look amazing."

Harry blushed a little. "Thanks…should we go now?"

Minutes later Blaise and Harry entered the transformed hall. The tables had been placed along the outer edges of the Great Hall, offering a veritable banquet of food to enjoy in between dances. The sky was a cloudless and starry. Fake snow lined the floor while snowflakes floated effortlessly throughout the room. Despite the chill that Harry normally associated with this kind of night, the air in the Great Hall was warm and inviting.

They chatted pleasantly with several couples from mixed houses, deliberately avoided ones from Gryffindor since neither Harry nor Blaise was in a mind to spoil the night by fighting with people from his ex house. 

Harry had been surprised when he learned that Hermione was going to go with Ron. He'd thought in the past that they might end up together one day if they didn't kill each other—his humor and eagerness balanced her too studious and rule-abiding nature almost perfectly. Still, knowing how Ron had treated him, seeing Hermione dancing with Ron hurt.

Blaise saw who had caught Harry's eyes, and made the decision a before Hermione had a chance to spot them. "May I have this dance, Harry?"

Harry smiled, relaxing slightly. If they were dancing, unwanted conversations could be stopped. "I have to warn you, I'm not that great of a dancer."

Blaise laughed. "You never had to do a cotillion, did you?"

Harry looked at Blaise blankly.

Blaise took up Harry's hand and lead him in a rather awkward version of the modern Wizard Waltz. "For some reason, pureblood families find it all too important to be able to dance and converse aimlessly, and so send us to class to learn how to do it. I do admit, however, that learning to look like you actually care when you really are so bored that being put under Imperious might be considered fun has actually come in handy." 

Harry laughed, and managed to only step on Blaise's foot once before the song ended. They turned around just as a solitary Draco entered the room, the last of the fifth years to the ball.

And he looked amazing.

His hair, normally slicked back and impeccable, had been spelled down to shoulder length, and neatly tied back with a simple silver ribbon. The formal robes that he'd chosen were so form fitting that it was difficult to even call them robes to begin with, showing off his lithe form to perfection. He even appeared to be glistening, the faintest touch of glitter reflected under the cool lighting of the room.

Harry, and quite a few other students, watched him enter, mouths at least slightly agape. Blaise tugged on his arm, trying to snap Harry out of it.

"Sorry about that." Harry turned away, and another dance started up as Draco glided through the crowd of dancers, smiling charmingly at both men and women a like.

He tapped Harry on the shoulder. As Harry spun around, Draco had his winning "I'm a Malfoy you know you love me" smile on, and took Harry by the hands. "Cutting in for this dance, Blaise. Why don't you get us some punch?"

Blaise's eyes hardened slightly, but he didn't fight Draco and left the two to dance. "Are you terribly bored yet? Blaise isn't the most interesting partner at a dance."

Still slightly bewildered by all this, Harry replied, "Well, we didn't get here all that long ago…"

Meanwhile, bets were being settled, and clusters of Gryffindors broke up as they realized that they weren't targets for assassination after all. The clusters reformed when someone figured out that something far more interesting was beginning to take place. Disappointment over where Harry had ended up or not, the sudden triangle of Blaise/Harry/Draco was going to be entertaining. 

At the end of the song, Blaise was standing by with three cups of punch—impeccable cotillion taught manners fully in place.

"Why thank you, Blaise."

"You're quite welcome, Draco."

"Did you enjoy yourself, Harry?" asked Blaise.

Harry looked between the two housemates. He admitted to himself that he really did like Draco, but he wasn't sure if he was quite ready to give up Blaise yet. A glance at Blaise's determined face told Harry that Blaise wasn't willing to let Draco get the upper hand.

"It was nice. We managed to not step on each other's feet." Harry said carefully.

Draco beamed; as if somehow Harry's slightly less clumsy dance steps were a sign of favor, while Harry sipped his punch like it was the tastiest drink ever. A faster dance started playing.

"Shall we Harry?" asked Blaise politely, itchy to get away from Draco.

Draco put a hand on Harry. "Why the rush? You went to the trouble of getting drinks, the least we could do is enjoy them."

Blaise plastered on what Harry realized must be the "want to be under the Imperious" smile. "Of course. Harry? Will you find us a place to sit while I have a quick word with Draco?"

Although disliking being dismissed like that, a table far away seemed safer then witnessing an actual confrontation. He was making small talk with a Ravenclaw, when two songs later, the two Slytherins finally found him, causing the Ravenclaw to make a hasty retreat.

"We've come to an agreement," Blaise announced.

"With your permission, of course," interjected Draco.

"Of course." Blaise nodded.

Harry hesitantly said, "I'm listening."

"Seeing as Draco is adamant about dancing with you, we've decided that we'll take turns, and in return, we promise that we'll be civil to each other for the rest of the night."

Harry felt goosebumps crawling up his skin, realizing that he was actually Draco's prey.   
He looked between the two men, who were looking at each other with the kind of cold hostility that he was used to seeing directed at him in school years past. Finally, slowly, Harry said, "I reserve the right to stop dancing with either one of you if I so choose."

Both Blaise and Draco nodded; each sure Harry would end up with him.

Harry stood. "Well then. Blaise, I believe it is your turn?" 

Blaise nodded, smirked at Draco and lead Harry onto the dance floor.

* * *  
As the night wore on, Harry got more and more incredulous at Blaise's behavior. Every dance they had it took all of Harry's efforts to get Blaise to stop scowling in Malfoy's direction, or to stop talking about him. He'd even resorted to several hard stomps on the foot to get him to pay attention to what Harry was saying. His nerves were wearing thin, and he was almost ready to call it quits, when the song ended and he returned to Draco. 

Taking a seat next to him and nibbling on a pastry, Harry realized that Draco hadn't changed in trying to win Harry. They didn't dance every time it was their turn, even though they could have. He'd quickly discovered that Draco wasn't all that fond of dancing either, so instead they spent their time talking. They had argued over who had the worst taste in dress robes (female: Pansy Parkinson, male, Neville), who was the worst dancer (Harry ruefully agreed that for the Boy Who Lived and Youngest Seeker at Hogwarts in a Century that he couldn't keep his feet on the floor, and off his partner), and the person in most desperate need of a hair cut, (Ron, whose bangs were down past his nose). All in all he'd actually enjoyed himself far more with Draco then with Blaise.

Harry's spirits sank a little when Blaise came near, and when he got within hearing distance, Harry said, "Tell you guys what, I need a breather, so I'll sit out both the next songs."

Draco nodded. "Sounds all right with me. What about you, Blaise?"

Blaise nodded curtly. "All right. See you in a few." He spun around and left the group of Slytherins.

Harry kept true to his word and took off shortly thereafter, leaving the great hall to get a breath of fresh air. He wasn't the only one that had this idea, and soon struck up some small talk with a couple of sixth year Ravenclaws. As the first song ended and the second one began to play, he politely broke off the conversation and starting head back inside. He nodded to a few people, and across the way he saw Blaise's back. Heading towards him, he slowed as he caught snippets of conversation.

"…going to fuck Malfoy, I know it. Shouldn't have ever agreed to the damn bet. He's my date."

Harry inched closer.

"Did you see them laughing? From the way the two of them have been acting, I can't help but think that he's been seeing Draco when we haven't been dating. Do you think that they're really studying potions every Sunday afternoon?"

Harry's eyes grew cold, and the people Blaise were talking to scattered as they saw Harry coming up towards them.

"How dare you." His voice was as quiet as he could manage in the noisy environment, even though people around them had started to stop their conversations, noticing the anger in Harry's voice.

"Harry! I was just waiting for you and…"

"I heard what you said about me and Draco."

Blaise took a step back, raising his hands placating, his voice raising slightly. "I can explain, really. I mean, surely you understand what it must be like to be in my shoes."

Harry shook his head. "I know this must be tough but it was your own fault wasn't it? You didn't have to come to any sort of arrangement with Draco, did you?" 

As the crowd of onlookers gathered, Draco closed in.

"But you did. And ever since then you've done nothing but glare at him. Mutter about him. Make comments about him." He laughed, bitterly. "I'd say you're jealous, aren't you? Jealous of the way that he can read me better then you can. Jealous because he can make me laugh. I will always thank you for being kind to me when I made the transition from Gryffindor to Slytherin, but I will not put with this from you. How could we ever have any kind of relationship knowing that you expect me to be meeting Draco at the Astronomy Tower? We're through, Blaise. For good."

A path cleared for Harry as he moved to leave. He heard Blaise calling his name, although neither one made a move to get the other. Harry didn't care enough to turn around, sickened by Blaise's display. Harry bitterly thought that if Blaise really wanted him so bad that he could have at least tried a little harder to get Harry to come back.

Draco nodded slightly as he passed, giving Harry a small smile, out of sympathy at finding out that your boyfriend's a prick. Harry appreciated that.

He was asleep by the time the rest of the dorm returned.


	10. Revelations and Acceptance

10. Revelations and Acceptance 

Christmas morning was a slightly subdued affair in Slytherin house, mostly due to the manners that had been drilled into many: it simply wasn't right for a pureblooded wizard to jump around like a muggle at the thought of getting gifts. Of course so many of them were so spoiled that Christmas was just a day of extra presents, so there wasn't that much cause for excitement to begin with.

Harry found himself with a surprisingly large pile of presents—he was so used to only getting at most trinkets from the other Gryffindors that it never even occurred to him to get things for the rest of the fifth years, let alone for people in other years. Even the first years had all chipped in to buy him a gift. He felt quite embarrassed and apologized to everyone, who reassured him that it was quite all right and assured him that this was payment for aide to them, including ensuring that the Quidditch team had a tight grip on first place.

Harry nodded, but before opening any of his gifts, he slipped the packages containing the socks for his dorm mates next to him: he didn't feel like they'd really be appreciated. He'd give Blaise's to Ginny, and maybe he'd give Draco's to him later when they started to study again. He passed Draco the package containing the book.

Draco neatly unwrapped the paper, his eyes glittering in delight as he fingered the spine. "How'd you get this, Harry? I can't imagine you have the contacts to get this."

Harry smiled slightly. "Does it really matter, Draco? Just promise you won't use me as your test subject."

Draco nodded, then grinned wickedly. "I overheard Snape talking to Flitwick. It seems like we might have a dueling night soon to test our skills…"

Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. "And then what will you do once you get expelled?"

"Psh. Details. Details."

Harry knew that Draco wouldn't actually use the curses in class. None of them were that stupid, despite the outward appearances of some of them. 

"Your turn, Harry."

Harry worked his way through the pile of presents: more books on the Dark Arts (un-subtle hints perhaps, although none of them were immediately useful for what he was studying), some sweets, and some new pants to wear under his robes.

Draco handed him an elegantly wrapped book. "You should appreciate it. Had to pull a lot of strings to get it done in time."

Harry opened, and saw Quidditch Through the Ages glowing at him. He frowned; he already owned a copy. 

"Open it, already, would you?"

Harry complied and gasped as he flipped through the pages. Autographs. Tons and tons of them, from players all over Europe, both past and present. Harry's mouth dropped open. He'd seen it at the broom shop; but it was like the Firebolt: if you had to ask how much it cost, you couldn't afford it. A decidedly expensive book that Harry had drooled over, yet never dared to actually purchase for himself.

"This is fantastic!"

"Knew you'd enjoy it. And look in the cover."

Harry flipped to it, and saw that the Chudley Cannons had autographed personally, dedicating it to Harry, congratulating him on his own Quidditch successes. 

"Wow. Thank you, Draco." Harry looked it over in awe; it was obvious that this was his favorite gift.

"You're welcome." Draco replied, tipping his head slightly, smiling.

* * *  
Despite the fact that they were still on vacation, Harry and Draco still met in the Potions dungeon that Sunday. The atmosphere was as cheery as it had been in weeks, even though they were starting to review for the OWLs.

Harry stirred the cauldron, carefully watching the size of the bubbles that danced along the surface.

"You know, I never meant to get you kicked off the team."

Draco nodded. "It was Snape's decision."

"I miss playing you on the field. You were the best competition I had, really."

"Why thank you. I am rather good."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, I was trying to ask you if you wanted to play some one on one Quidditch."

Draco's eyes widened and he grinned slyly as he realized what was going on. "Is the great Harry Potter asking me out?"

Harry smirked slightly. "I could be."

"Well, I suppose I have to say yes. Can't let you go around dating just anyone in the school. We Slytherins have high standards you know."

Harry shook his head. "I must be nuts, you know, to want to date you."

"Well, I think you're insane anyway, although wanting to date me proves you haven't completely lost it."

Harry snorted. "Thank you so much. It's heartening to know my sanity is measured by wanting to date guys all too willing to get me more involved in the Dark Arts."

"Can I help it that I approve of your reading materials?"

Harry grinned but refrained from commenting.

"I'll find out why you're reading them one day."

Harry nodded. "Sure you will. When I tell you."

Draco snorted. "I could always ask Snape."

"You could, but you won't."

"And why won't I?"

"Because you haven't already and besides, Snape won't tell you what we're doing."

Draco frowned as their potion turned a brackish green, when it was supposed to be a clear blue, and turned down the flames. "He would if I asked."

"He wouldn't. The only other one who knows is Dumbledore, and he certainly won't tell you."

Draco tried to not pout, but Harry could still see hints of puppy dog eyes peeking through, and he laughed.

"I'll take your mind off it. I think this potion is ruined. Why don't you and I go play some Quidditch. I meant it when I said you were my best competition."

"What are we playing for?"

"We have to play for something?"

Draco nodded, and began to clean up the dungeon. "Makes things more interesting."

Harry tilted his head, a little curious, a little nervous. "What are you offering?"

"If I win, I get a kiss."

"And if I win?"

"I'll grade the next batch of essays you assign the first years."

Harry held out his hand. "You're on."

* * *  
The Quidditch pitch was deserted when they got to the field. Not surprising considering the chill in the air, and the threat of snow, although that didn't deter the two Slytherins.

Harry clutched the Snitch in his hand, and at Draco's signal, released it into the air, the small golden ball somehow easier to see on this slightly cloudy day. Waiting until it had disappeared from sight, the two boys flew up into the air, ready to begin their match.

Unlike the matches for the Quidditch cup, this match was slower, friendlier. They glided around the field, each diligently keeping an eye out for the Snitch, even as they tried to look their most casual.

"You know I'm going to catch it, Harry!" Draco yelled out after several minutes of the two flying laps around each other.

"In your dreams, Draco!" Harry yelled back cheerfully. 

Harry moved closer to the center of the field, when the familiar flash of gold zoomed by. Harry took off after it, and Draco did as well, only his position made him that much closer to the target. Harry's Firebolt was not known as the broom of choice for nothing though, and quickly caught up until the two were almost neck and neck, both within reaching distance of their prize. Harry made a push for the snitch at the last second, just as Draco's hand was closing around it.

"Yes!" Draco cried out, bringing his broom back down to the field, Harry landing by his side.

"I believe you owe me forfeit, Harry."

Harry swallowed slightly. "I do indeed, Draco." Harry took a step closer, closing the distance between the two young wizards before leaning forward and planting a nervous kiss on Draco's lips, willing himself to relax.

Draco prolonged the kiss, slightly slipping his tongue between Harry's lips before breaking it off. Harry blushed slightly, knowing that he could have done better then that, and for a few moments tried to look anywhere but at the honestly smiling Draco. After another minute, Draco wrapped his arm around Harry, pulling him closer, while his other hand brushed the wind-swept bangs out of his face.

"I get to pick the next date." Draco commented as they replaced their brooms in the shed.

"Just promise me that if it's food, it's edible."

Draco sighed dramatically. "Oh Harry. You still have so much to learn about living like the rich…"

Harry rolled his, laughed, and the two young men headed back into the warm halls of Hogwarts.

* * *  
Classes were soon back in session, and days later came the fifth year Defense match up that Draco had mentioned on Christmas morning . Slytherins and Gryffindors were seated on the right side of the room, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs at the left. In the middle of the room, in front of the giant chalkboard sat three chairs. The middle one was raised higher then the other two, and in it held Professor Dumbledore. Flitwick sat to the right of him, the stack of pillows to make him level with the Headmaster and Snape so high, Harry wondered how he didn't fall off.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!"

"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore." replied the group.

"I know that Defense this year has been a rather unusual experience for you, all what with no real teacher and a more practical syllabus then ever before, even if both teachers are focusing on slightly different areas. We are here tonight to see how we are all progressing, and to test your reflexes by the means of dueling. I should hope things go more smoothly then the last time we attempted this."

Harry winced slightly. The night in the dueling club when knowledge about his status as a Parselmouth became known by all still ranked right up there with detentions with Filch and battles with Voldemort as his least favorite school memories.

"The way this works will be simple: one student from Professor Snape's class will face off with a student from Professor Flitwick's class. The two will meet in the duel. The person who disarms their opponent first scores a point from their side, and ten points for their house. When it is all done, the house with highest over all score will receive an extra fifty points for their house!"

A smattering of applause filled the room as Dumbledore drew a list from the side of his chair. He called up Seamus from Gryffindor, and a girl from Ravenclaw named Sarah Harrison to start the first bout.

The duel was painful to watch. Despite his early confidence, Seamus fumbled with his Recurvo spell. His initial attempt to get it up in time, failed, and he got hit head on with the tickling charm. He squirmed and laughed and tried to cast Expelliarmus to no avail. Meanwhile, Sarah had no such difficulties and seconds later his wand was in her hand, and the right side of the room burst into applause and cheers, while Harry's roommates hissed and jeered Seamus' efforts.

"Way to go Seamus," Draco sneered.

"Nice choke." added Blaise.

Crabbe just glared without comment. Harry muttered something silently, and the room was restored to calm as Dumbledore named the next two participants. Harry watched as the duels progressed. Despite the differences in teaching styles, the two groups were actually comparatively equal: while Snape's students knew about the Reflecting spell (and Harry the Impenetrable spell), many of them, like Seamus, were having trouble getting it cast in time, allowing them to get hit and disarmed. Conversely, the rest of his class (mainly the Slytherins) realized that not casting it successfully would only be a waste of time so most of them didn't even bother. Without that waste of time, Snape's students made quick work of Flitwick's; the curses they knew were stronger then the still- simplistic defense spells that Flitwick had taught his group.

About forty-five minutes in, there were only four students left: Harry, Ron, Lavender and a Ravenclaw that Harry didn't really know.

"Mr. Potter of Slytherin, and Mr. Weasley of Hufflepuff."

Harry and Ron stood facing each other, the normal level of pre-duel chatter filled the air.

"I've been practicing, you know, with Hermione." Ron commented.

Harry nodded. "I'm sure it will show. Good luck, Ron."

Confidently, Ron replied, "You too, Harry. You'll need it."

Harry smiled slightly, bowed his head, and raised his wand, Ron doing the same.

"And begin!" Dumbledore cried out.

Harry muttered silently and Recurvo was up a scant few seconds later, just as Ron began to cast the jelly legs curse. Hitting Harry's shields, it made Ron dodge out of the way to avoid getting hit by his own hex, throwing Ron's momentum off, which Harry used to quickly disarm him. The whole match was over in less then a minute, and garnered applause from everyone in the room, including the three professors.

"Excellent work gentlemen." Everyone knew that by "gentlemen" Dumbledore meant Harry; he was the only one who'd successfully used the reflecting spell that night. Although a few of the other Gryffindors had gotten close, their reflexes a little too slow. Even so, he smiled, thanked Dumbledore and Harry. Harry shook Ron's hand and returned to his seat, getting congratulations from all around him, including some of the female Gryffindors who were now in a state of quasi-lust caused by Harry's fine dueling skilled, tempered first by Harry's relationship with Blaise, and now with rumors of Harry's relationship with Draco.

The final match of the night was anticlamtic after Harry's show of skill; Lavender, who was never good in Defense, got soundly trounced by the Ravenclaw, her loss was enough to result in Ravenclaw winning the fifty point bonus.

Dumbledore pronounced the night a success, and dismissed them all.

* * *  
A month into term, Hermione needed help. Flitwick had assigned them all papers for Defense, and Harry happened to have the books she needed. Those who had seen him last said that he'd been heading out towards Hagrid's hut.

She heard Harry's voice ordering a series of commands, but wasn't sure who he was talking to, until she saw the big, familiar looking dog. She frowned, "Snuffles? Is that you? Why are you still a dog, there's no one else out here?"

Harry jumped, spinning around to face Hermione. "Don't do that, Hermione. It could be dangerous." He turned and faced the dog. "You'd better change back." There was a strange emphasis on the last two words.

Within moments, the dog was replaced with one very naked, very still Sirius Black, who didn't even so much as blink. 

"Aren't you going to get dressed?" asked Hermione.

Sirius didn't move.

"Um. Harry…is there something wrong with Snuffles?"

Harry sighed. "Finite Incantatum."

Harry's godfather shook his head, as if waking up, then immediately grabbed for his robes to cover himself.

Hermione gasped. "Does this mean…"

Harry nodded slightly.

"But you could end up in Azkaban for this…"

"Not if the Ministry doesn't find out. Professor Snape and Dumbledore know what I'm doing, and have given me permission to do this. Not to mention Snuffles consented," Harry commented, a bit defensively.

"He's not going anywhere, Hermione." Snuffles patted her on the shoulder, trying to calm her down.

"But…but why? Why does Harry know how to do Imperius? Why are you even here Snuffles? I thought Harry said that you hadn't replied to his last letter!" She bit her lip, not knowing what to do with herself.

"Calm down Hermione, and I'll explain everything."

"Promise? The whole truth this time?"

Harry nodded. "I promise."

She sighed a little, some of the tension leaving her body. "All right."

"Hagrid said I could use his hut if needed to, why don't we go inside?" Harry suggested.

Black nodded emphatically. "Agreed."

The three walked around the side of the cottage, and went in. The first thing Sirius did was to go and make himself presentable, before starting the tea. A few minutes later, Harry and Hermione were sipping tea quietly, and Sirius slouched into an armchair.

"So. Which explanation do you want first?" Harry finally asked.

"Why not the easy one. What is your godfather doing here?"

Sirius smiled. "I can't go into details, but I've been working on things for Dumbledore, which is why I haven't had the time to write back. When I had to come here and report, I decided to spend some time with Harry…it's been a while and I thought it might be good for the both of us to spend some time together."

She nodded. It was still risky, but there were enough paths leading outside that it wouldn't have been too hard for him to get outside without being caught.

"All right, then. Harry. Why are you studying the Dark Arts?"

He hesitated, trying to find the right words for what he wanted to say. "You know that in exchange for teaching Defense to first years, my main compensation is learning advanced Defense with Professor Snape…well, I'm studying the Dark Arts because the spells there are powerful. Voldemort and his followers are all strong Dark Wizards. They don't mess around with tickling charms and jelly legs. I have to be able to defend myself against those attacks—and if possible, prevent them in the first place by incapacitating them."

She nodded, slowly. "That makes sense, I suppose. But that still doesn't explain why you had Sirius under the Imperius. Why would you need to know that? Are you learning the other two too?"

He looked at Sirius for a second, who nodded. "I'm learning them because one day they may save my life. Voldemort is so hard to kill…that one day Avada Kevadara might be my only option. I don't want it to have to be that way. But if it is, I rather risk going to Azkaban then letting Voldemort continue to live. And yes. I'm learning the others. Cruciatus is next, then finally the killing curse."

"I see." She was frowning.

"I'm not asking you to like the fact that I'm learning the Dark Arts, or that I was using Sirius to practice, Hermione. I just want you to accept it."

She nodded. "I trust you, Harry. Just be careful."

"I'll try, promise." 

Hermione rose. "Good. I'll leave you to talk with your godfather."

Harry nodded. "Wait, before you go, were you looking for me for any particular reason?"

"Oh! Yes! You have some books I need for a Defense essay."

"Give me a list at dinner and I'll see which ones I can part with."

She nodded. "All right then. Have a good day, and for god sakes Harry, be careful!"

"I will."

She left the hut, and Harry sighed in relief. "That was too close."

Sirius nodded. "It was…So. What's this I heard about you and Draco Malfoy?"

"Um. We're dating?" Harry offered.

Sirius nodded. "I don't need to warn you about his family."

"You don't." Harry agreed.

It was Sirius' turn to start sighing. "Just be careful Harry. You know there's a big chance that he'll follow in his fathers footsteps."

"Yeah. I know." His voice was subdued.

"It's just something for you to remember. Think long and hard before you fall too hard."

"I will…" Harry paused. "So…does this mean that you're all right with me dating guys?"

Sirius smiled sadly, his expression telling Harry that he was thinking of a past lover. "It's not my place to comment on your love life, Harry. Merlin knows if anyone has earned the right to have a partner it's you. I want you to be happy, and if dating Draco does it for you…then I'll bite my tongue."

Harry nodded slightly. It was as much as he could hope for. "Thank you."

Sirius looked outside, seeing beginning of dusk. "I've got to be going."

Harry stood, and gave his godfather a hug. "Be careful. And thank you."

"For what?"

"For not lecturing me. For helping me today."

"You're welcome."

Harry nodded.

"I'll try to get in touch sooner next time." He gave Harry another hug and shifted back into Snuffles. Snuffles barked and Harry let him out the door watching him leave before returning to the castle proper.

* * *  
A week after Sirius' visit, "official" news of Harry and Draco's relationship spread throughout Hogwarts, confirming the tamer rumors about the pair. No one freaked out, although a few wistfully sighed that Harry was again taken. The wishful thinking was popped the very next day, when an ominous red envelope landed in Draco's lap.

Draco shook, the Slytherins around him winced and looked at Draco and Harry with sympathy. There was no mistaking what this Howler was going to be about. He picked up the envelope and gently opened it.

Much to Harry's surprise, this one didn't shriek like Ron's and Neville's had. Instead, a chilly voice began to speak.

Draco,

I have waited patiently to see if your dalliance with the Potter child would come to a quiet end. But as that has not yet happened, I have no choice but to write you this Howler.

You are the Heir to the Malfoy name and lands, and are expected to behave in a manner according to your position. You have duties to me as my son, of which I know you are fully aware, and you must know how your…boyfriend…contradicts these obligations.

Choose wisely, Draco. We will discuss this further the next time we meet.

Regards,

Lucius Malfoy

Harry shivered slightly and watched as the envelope burst into bright silver and green flames.

Unable to take his eyes off the pile of ash, Harry said to Draco, "We need to talk."

Draco nodded. "Tonight, the Potions dungeon."

Harry nodded, feeling a lump of dread already beginning to grow in his stomach. It was going to be a long day.

* * *  
Harry shifted uncomfortably on a stool looking at Draco, who also seemed less confident than usual.

"So."

"So. What are you going to do, Draco?"

"What can I do, Harry? He still expects me to become a Death Eater and serve You-Know-Who."

"You don't have though."

"I don't. He could make me, but he won't."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"The Dark Lord doesn't want followers who aren't 100% loyal, 100% committed to him. He'll only accept you if you are truly willing. He can sense it if you're being forced."

"Well, that's good to know, I suppose. Still, just because he won't doesn't mean you won't. Do you want to become a Death Eater? Do I have to worry that one day you'll be the one who hands me over to Voldemort as some kind of sick prize?"

Draco's face was coldly indifferent, a mask that Harry wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to decipher what it was hiding. "I'm not sure. I do hate the way we wizards have to hide from the Muggles. I think that Mudbloods sully wizard blood and dilute our power, and I know the Dark Lord can change that. Put them in their rightful places. But I don't know if I want to spend my life bowing to a person who disposes of you the second you're no longer useful, or casts Cruciatus because you made a minor mistake. For all my father's boasting about how great You-Know-Who is, I know that he's scared of him. My father bends over backwards trying to please him just so he'll stay in his good graces, and let the abuse go elsewhere, or maybe get a little more power. I wouldn't blame him for that. Power is good, we should all try and get more." He looked at Harry evenly. "You have a lot you know, you just need to learn to use it."

Harry didn't say anything because he didn't know what to say. What could he really expect to hear from Draco? Harry knew his father had been pushing him on this path since Draco could remember. His prejudices against Muggles and Mudbloods were deep-seated and probably would never fully go away. Harry wanted to hear something more concrete then just that maybe he wouldn't become a Death Eater. Yet he wouldn't believe Draco if Draco flat out said he wouldn't become one either. He was shaken from his musings when Draco kissed him, as if out of desperate reassurance.

"Look. I like you, and I'm not planning on letting you go anytime soon. Whether or not I become a Death Eater is a decision I will make for myself—as is the person I will date. I will deal with my father. I have for years now; this is just one more battle that I'll have with him. Now come on. We'll miss Defense if we don't hurry."

Harry nodded, and followed Draco up towards the Defense classroom. Though Draco tried to settle the issue here and now, Harry knew that it'd only be a matter of time before it came up again. But for now, he wasn't going to worry. He liked Draco, Draco liked him, and they understood each other and where they stood. It was the best he could hope for.

As he listend to Professor Snape lecture on a curse he learned months ago, he looks at Draco and smiles. Perhaps getting re-Sorted wasn't such a bad thing after all.


	11. Author's Note

Author's Note for Moving Company 

Well, that's it for this story, I hope you all enjoyed it!

There is still a lot left that I want to do with this little verse that I've created that just wasn't practical do in terms of the story proper. This includes several pieces that will undoubtedly go NC-17. Due to the regulations on both ff.net and fiction alley these will only be posted at my website Insanity I will post a note here at ff.net when I post new sections. Parts that remain R rated or later will be posted here and in the appropriate section at fiction alley.

Finally, to the person who asked me if I'm an *N Sync fan, yes, I am. FYI, there was a cameo by Chris in Chapter 5 

  
Thank you,

Lady Lance  



End file.
